


Caught in Time

by meupclose



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, M/M, Magical Items, Tim Drake is Robin, a lot of angst involving tims thoughts, bare with me, but it will work out lol, fluffy between all the mission stuff, i am doing everything I can to have this end okay :), its going to get dark towards the end involving tim, its like BAM TORTURE then BAM LETS SNUGGLE AND NOSE KISS, jason is tall and tim is smol, new take on canon things, please note that the major death is jasons, special powers and connections, thank you for reading, there is a plot to this story lol, they are ridiculously in love its so sick and sweet, they start out young and grow up, tim's pov, torture elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:51:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8261612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meupclose/pseuds/meupclose
Summary: Tim knows Gotham. He knows it from behind a lens. He knows it through school and clicks, and peer pressure from his parents to do well so he could 'be something' in the future. Tim knew he was genius level with his intelligence, and yet he could easily trip over his own shoelaces and blush something embarrassing if he was caught in the perfect tease. Tim saw muggings, and blood-- he knew what the insides of a human looked like after someone gutted them, and he knew the exact smile someone made when they were in love and getting married. He saw lies. He saw hatred. He saw happiness-- the real kind that showed up on a kids face when their mom decided to buy all the kids in the park ice cream. Tim knew by way of the Earth's rotations he was only a teenager. But he couldn't help but feel like he was seeing all there was in life in regards to humanity. Maybe that was why this watch and the magic it was using to bring Jason's soul back to Earth was so maddening.*finally finished!!!*//or the fic where Jason and Tim become connected with a magical artifact the batfamily can't figure out and it turns into a mission fic powerslammed with sweet falling in love//





	1. Batman Needs a Robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: ALSO! If you see the first page of RHATO Rebirth #3 this is EXACTLY how I pictured Jason in this story and it literally blew my mind to have a visual of this AFTER I have written this fanfiction XD please fan girl with me on this. If you haven't read the issue yet it really doesnt spoil anything at all! Its just a flashback page again.  
> Here ya go! (Hope it works im on mobile!) 
> 
> http://cosmoscowboy.tumblr.com/post/151703777762/red-hood-and-the-outlaws-2016-3

Tim hadn’t meant to find the little pocket watch. It had caught his eye by some shop vendor probably selling a bunch of stolen stuff on a deary day. Its bronze coating was tarnished, the mirror inside its left half cracked slightly in the corner where a dent to the outside rim clearly painted a story of it being thrown in it’s last moments of life. There were initials carved roughly on the back. JT. Tim enjoyed playing detective. After all he had been watching Batman and Robin all his life. 

Maybe that was why it caught his eye. The roughness yet beautiful finish on the pocket watch made him think about Robin. The second one.

Tim knew it was someone different the night it changed over. Their shoulders not as broad, and the flipping Grayson was known for didn’t bring that ‘wonder’ feeling to Tim with the new one. But there was something _different_  in Robin that Tim had felt desperate to photograph. More than he ever admitted.

There was a rawness in him. A fire that made Tim think up stories of who the teenager was and why Batman had chosen him to take up the mantle. So many kids in Gotham. And yet he shown bright enough to make Batman need his companionship. After all. That was Robin’s role right? To be this beacon of light in the darkness of the Gotham Dark Knight. This Robin wasn’t all light though. Tim watched. And watched. Saw the sharp jagged edges over the playfulness of the first Robin. There was no circus, or spotlight. There was pain behind some hits, shrouded in the fun of being a hero. 

Okay. It was hard admit. But he had a big crush on Jason Todd. 

Tim had worked out his identity when Bruce Wayne had announced him as his adopted son. He watched from the crowds to fall enamored with his cocky smirk, and confident position next to an elite member of society like Bruce Wayne. Tim saw it clearly as day. Could stare at the two standing at the press podium. Bruce using his ‘civilian’ voice to make him appear almost oblivious to what it meant to punch bad guys in the face. Tim could watch the _show_  for hours behind his lens. Snapping photos of the pair in secret. Putting more pieces together without an evil intent. It was need. Sheer need to be apart of their story.

But Jason. He stood up there with a lean on his right leg, a cocky grin. Hair long and brushing his lashes. The hue of his eyes was intense in that movie making way where they held a dark story behind them. Tim was desperate to know more. To understand why he was the chosen one. 

It had been the start of his mild obsession with the Second Robin. 

But it ended. As all stories go for superheros...there was risk. Tim understood that as a sympathizer in the background knowing pieces he shouldn’t know and yet couldn’t do anything more but snap a few pictures and be a fan in the crowd. But he wanted more.

And Batman-- he needed a Robin.

\--

“Batman isn’t talking to me again Alfred,” Tim was perched at the computer, frantically entering in his reports for the night. 

“Nor I, we will give him a night Master Timothy,” Tim nodded, the ache from his own loss surfaced expectantly. It was easy to put on the Robin suit he realized. It had been surprisingly easier to manipulate Batman into letting him be his Robin. But Tim had realized he never processed Jason’s death. He had poured hours over it. Ignoring what the public had been told by Bruce Wayne. He instead focused on what happened to Robin, because that was the real case. The real death. With Joker. With Batman being too late to save him. 

Tim heard Alfred leave him to the cave, and the young man knew he’d be left alone for a few hours. Batman was off somewhere he didn’t say exactly. Loneliness filled him, reaching into his pocket to pull out the broken watch, opening it to reveal the trapped hands forever stopped at 2:43. He had tried to take the object apart. To repair it’s gears, but though it was in working order it never moved from that time. Tim tinkered with the object when he was feeling upset, but right now all he could do is lounge back in the chair and stare at it. 

“He needs you not me,” he admitted out loud. There was always an energy about this object that made his mind fill with images and pictures he’s taken of Jason. He wished he had said hi. Just once, made it so he was seen and Jason in his Robin gear would swing down and say something cocky and confident his way. Tim felt tired suddenly. Like he was being reminded that he was a teenager and nothing more draining could be resting against his heart and chest. Would this be his life now? This replacement unworthy of Batman’s true partnership because he was still filling a ghosts position? 

“He always said you were the best. I can’t fill his heart like you did...”   
“Who are you?” 

Tim jumped from his seat, closing the watch with a sharp click and rose into a defensive position. 

“Who’s there?!” he yelled out, nothing but echos responded. The bats fluttered about from the loud burst from the teenager. He glanced up, looking around suspicious. Tim liked a good mystery. He had claimed that when he was a little boy. So fear didn’t settle so much as curiousness. The pocket watch felt different in his hand. It was slightly warm, not from his now sweaty palm but as if it was radiating its own heat. He opened it--

“How are you doing this?”

Jason was there. Arms crossed and still dressed in his beaten and tore up Robin outfit. He looked horrifying visually, not that Jason realized it entirely. The side of his face was broken, the top part of his head dented like he had been struck violently with something blunt. Every open tear in his uniform showed clotted blood, and crude carvings into his tanned skin. Jason put his hands on his hips, and Tim could lose it right now. He knew he could either pass out entirely, or fight this illusion and trick. But it wasn’t right?

“Doing what?” he tested, raising a brow in challenge. Trying to be brave. Jason leaned on his favored leg, a cocky grin filling out about his broken features to ever be a true Robin smile. Tim felt his heart constrict. It was _him._

“Bring me here? To the Batcave? And who are you? Why you looking like a Robin?”

“Just a substitute, waiting for you to get home already,” Tim responded almost perfectly, noting how hallow Jason’s eyes looked without the bright punch of color. Was he a ghost? Was this an apparition? Tim needed to know. “How do you feel?”

“You are avoiding my questions,” Jason sent back his way, and Tim actually found himself laughing at this entire exchange. Forever he’s wanted to have a conversation with Robin-- Jason Todd. And he was here as some _mirage_  because of something magical? He didn’t know.

“I am-- you shouldn’t be here,”  
“Why?”  
“You died,”

Jason hummed, “that I did.”

Tim’s heart constricted at how disappointed he sounded. 

“He tried to get to you...”  
“There is no way he’d make it. Why am I here? How did you bring me here?”

Tim lifted the pocket watch, eyes on Jason to notice a twitch of amusement on his pale lips. 

“You know this lady from the circus gave me that. Dick had said she was the real deal,” Jason mused, not moving from his standing position Tim noticed, so he walked forward. Wanting to touch him. See if he could. 

“What did she do?” Tim inquired. Jason wrapped his arms around his middle, seeming like he was in a bit of pain. Not from their talk, so much as the state his body was in. Tim reached out-- just enough to give him some comfort. But his fingers went right through him. Jason shivered. 

“Said it could save one wish,” Jason answered, closing his eyes and seeming tired. 

“What was your wish Jason?” The second Robin’s eyes reopened to that.  
“You know who I am?”  
“Yes-- I’m Timothy Drake, I’ve known about you all forever--”  
“Bet Bruce lost his mind when you wanted to be Robin,”  
“I am sure there is no way to ever replace you,”

Jason frowned. “He’s an ass then, you seem to have a decent skill set if you are sitting here talking to a dead Robin in the middle of the batcave.” Tim smiled. 

“What did you wish for?” he inquired again.  
“One more chance, it’s silly. But I got that when I was dealing with my step mom. Then Batman finds me stealing the tires off the batmobile...” Jason faded, and Tim moved instinctively in front of him. Reaching out but knowing he couldn’t feel anything solid was maddening. This all was. And Tim knew he was going to have one big freak out over it after it was over.

“Jason-- what does 2:43 mean? It’s stuck there--”  
“What is?” Jason’s wounds were bleeding, it was like everything was racing back to his last state. His breathing labored, and the apparition sat on the ground-- _almost_ crumbling in weakened stubbornness to still talk. Jason laid his head down on the floor, unaware how mocking it was of his final death. Tim laid down too. Swallowing thickly to figure this all out. 

“The watch-- but Jason. Please don’t go...”  
“I don’t even know how you did this babybird,” and with that Jason released a slow breath and faded entirely. Tim glanced down at the area he had just seen Robin when the pocket watch closed. He opened it again but nothing happened. Tim glanced back towards the computer where it read 2:48 am. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments well loved and appreciated.


	2. Secrets of a Robin

He didn’t tell Bruce. Nor Alfred. He told no one. But everyday at 2:43 he opened the watch either it be in the afternoon or in the early morning, and talked to Jason. As the five minutes ticked down Jason always laid down and died. It was so sad to watch, and regretfully Tim relied on the interaction like an addictive drug regardless of the Hell the other left in. Guilt plagued him. He knew one day Bruce was going to make him spill on everything, and Tim knew he would probably lose it when he did. But how did he explain this to anyone. Jason agreed about keeping Bruce out of this. Mostly because he didn't want to face his partner, and adoptive Father. To see the guilt in Bruce's eyes made Jason tense in thinking about it. So they kept it a secret. A Robin Secret they joked about. Tim hated it, but he understood.

“You need to sleep,” Jason mused, sitting crossed legged on Tim’s bedroom floor, never able to move about the room. But his eyes did. Though dark and without much color, Tim always felt like Jason was determined in his ever stubborn way to know everything about Tim. He remembered too. Which had encouraged their get together’s twice a day. Much to Tim’s worrying, Jason’s bravery to endure a death everytime Tim opened the watch made it worth it to support his decision. They shared deep conversations, and a budding friendship developed easily. It was a dream Tim had when he was younger and Jason picked on him continuously for it. Weeks had trailed by already. Time doing it's constant thing. Making Tim up at all hours trying to keep up with being a student, Robin, and solving more cases than anyone in the GCPD were in one given day. 

“I want to figure out why we can do this Jason. I don’t want to watch you suffer,” Tim admitted this night. All the other times he trailed off with a joke, or a poorly crafted memory of when he worked out everything about Batman's family. Jason had been enamored how he solved it. Laughing so much over Dick Grayson and his flipping self being the actual reason for it. He promised if he ever came back to life fully he'd never let Dick forget it. All Tim can remember is how Nightwing didn't want to come back and help him. Leaving Tim to fend for himself while picking up whatever pieces of the Batman he could gather and assemble a team again. 

“Ever the detective, but you look tired,” Jason's words rang true as they always did. 

Tim glanced up from his desk when he felt Jason’s own exhaustion. Various objects laid scattered across the surface. Tim having taken part the watch, and also sought out sources in Witchcraft to aid him. He had theories but no evidence. It was driving him a little crazy to the point he wasn’t sleeping to take full advantage of all his spare time. 

“I wish you didn’t die every time we do this,”  
“I can handle it,” Jason hummed from the ground. A repetition of all the other countless times he’s talked to Tim. 

“Did the bomb say five minutes Jason?”  
“Hmm?”  
“The bomb, when you looked at it--” Jason’s brow wrinkled, a line of blood dripped down his nose, catching along his lips. Tim felt his eyes water up again. He always cried, and he frantically wiped the tear from his cheek so Jason didn’t see it. 

“Yeah actually,” and he was gone again. Tim laid his head down on the desk. Was Jason reliving his last five minutes? Tim didn’t understand magic, but he knew everything had a price. 

\---

_Three Months_

Friendship was the easiest step. Tim hadn't ever considered how much in common they had. How brilliant Jason was while he hid behind that 'bad boy' vibe he commented on all the time. Jason loved science, and all of Tim's projects he was engineering. If the night was slow they would just talk on his bed, if Tim was in the middle of a fight or with Batman Jason would know the following day and ask questions about the case or what he had gotten into. It was plain to see how much Jason missed being out there. He was made for this life probably more than he ever admitted to himself, and now that he was forced to watch it through this looking glass-- it made Tim feel guilty. Didn't mean when he was burned out to a fine butt in the sands that Jason didn't notice. Well, Jason always noticed when Tim was over his head, and he never made him feel bad about it so much as shoved his way to help the moment he appeared. 

“Let me see the sample,” Jason asked from the floor. His gloves were dirty, open along his palms from pushing off the ground in the warehouse. Tim sat crossed legged right in front of him to show him the notes on the case. Jason quickly read over it, nodding for Tim to swipe the device so he could continue. 

“Batman is stumped? That’s a first,” Jason teased, Tim instinctively glanced past Jason at the clock on the wall. If he was honest he didn't care about working this case anymore, not when Jason was here. He wished actually he could just lay down by his side, and they could talk more about random things over cases that involved murder and extortion of money.

“Do you think on things while you aren’t here?” Tim asked, sparing a chance to really look at Jason so close. He wished he could touch him. Offer a hand on his own, or a warm hug to lift the sadness barely hidden behind Jason’s Robin smiles. 

“No,” Jason admitted, “it’s just-- lights out until I see you again. It feels, like I close my eyes and its another five minutes. All strung together with your cute mug.” Tim blushed at that, pressing his palm into his cheek. The teenager knew what he did, and Tim hated that Jason could read people so easily. Tim needed to work on that outside of his Robin attire. Not that it would make a difference when the other was involved. 

“Go back on site, find that guy third on your list. I know him, real rougher down on 76th’s street corner of Fairmount. I caught him around my ma once or twice. Smacks people around, I broke his shin once-- Bruce hadn’t liked that cause the guy hadn’t done nothing in front of him. But,” Tim glanced up, Jason looked tired, his breathing steady but it was slowing down. Making him slump forward against his elbow to his knee. Tim reached out anyway. Running his fingers against his cheek, feeling nothing-- but Jason seemed to calm at the gesture. Able to get his thoughts out before he faded. 

“Push him for information Babybird, he will talk. Lead you to why this sample was found there. I have a feeling--” Jason’s eyes peered up, Tim intently giving his attention. Jason smiled. Tim watching his eyes dart across Tim's features, his fingers reaching out like Tim always did. The want to touch so overpowering some nights it made them both mad. 

“Don’t smile like that Jay,”  
“Like what?” He smiled broader, even around the horrible visual around it. The cracks, and chips to his poor face. The blood stained and smeared against his once sun kissed tanned skin. 

  
“Like you are happy--”  
“Of anyone to see for eternity? I’m grateful it was you--”

Jason closed his eyes, releasing a shuttering breath that didn’t strike an inhale in response. Fading entirely, like every particle slipped between themselves until only air remained. Tim’s loneliness corrupted his thoughts on wanting to solve this case for Bruce. Batman had been taking on so much alone that it was leaving Tim to deal with the fallout between school, and helping Jason. Tim was burning out.

\--

“Tell me I was right,” 

Tim fingered the watch before tossing it on his bed. It was late into the very early morning, and he was exhausted. He laid sideways on his bed. Offering the smug appearing Robin on the floor a grand roll of his crystalline eyes. 

“Of course you were--”

“YES! Team Robin will beat the Batman at all he does soon enough,”

Tim shook his head amused. “That sounds so corny,”

“Dick will be jealous, oh! I hope he’s jealous of our team,”   
“Are you always so competitive?”   
“Are you always so sleepy?” 

Jason’s comment made a warmth fill his chest in fondness to the banter. Tim didn’t have many friends, a few that he had in school was only entertained in his company there and never outside of it. A yawn stretched his face, the softness of the pillow making his mind fuzzy. He could feel Jason’s eyes on him, so he cracked a glance his way. The mood was light for once. Victory vibrating down the beaten Robin's shoulders into a fist pump and even a childish leap of excitement. Tim thought Jason never appeared like a teenager until right now. It was easy to pretend they weren't when they were geared up and wanting to take on the world with Batman. 

“I’m going to save you,” Tim stated in promise suddenly busting the happiness in the room. Jason’s smirk was vibrant in the moonlight from the window however to quell the dark mood Tim found himself in. 

“I have no doubt little robin,”   
"I’m not little,”  
“You could use some meat on those bones babybird,”  
“Geez, thanks...” he yawned again, Jason seemed shy suddenly. His eyes not so intent on Tim’s anymore. 

“What if I don’t want you too though? What if I don’t see you again if you figure out how to send me on?” Tim had thought about that, and he didn’t know the best way to answer it. There were so many ways this all could go down, but the plagued reality was did he selfishly want to keep Jason in his life-- or should he morally help his spirit move on?

“You should rest in peace Jason,” Tim’s fingers wrapped tightly around the watch. Holding it desperately like a life line to be able to see the other teenager. Jason wiped blood out of his eye, the crack up the side of his head reacted with a jolt of pain to the fallen Robin. Jason tried to hide it. Tim wished he'd not, maybe every once in awhile Jason could just be mad at Tim for allowing this to happen at all. He yawned, realizing how upset he was probably didnt stem so much from his exhaustion but in that he didn't ever want to watch Jason move on. But it's not what he said. Allowing himself to suffer since Jason so clearly was the one who did everyday. 

“I don’t know if I can watch you die so many times-- forever... Jason. I might not be strong enough, even if you are...” 

“Yeah-- you’re probably wrong but I hear you--” and he was gone again. The clock on the wall reading the dreaded time of the day. Tim’s chest hurt. Realizing he had been more honest than he wanted too. 


	3. Halloween

**Halloween**

“Where are we?” Jason asked from the edge of one of the high rises before he realized it. “Oh! Oh! WAIT! This is amazing.” 

Tim was lounged out on the roof behind Jason whose excitement had made all this extremely worth it. He had photographed Jason from this perch many times, it was where he’d strike a pose and wear a grin so wide Tim realized he was extremely in love with the boy. But he kept his feelings dampened. Not that they left, he just couldn’t admit something so personal. To not have anything more than this would hurt in acceptance if he was honest to himself. Which in all these passing months, Tim was realizing he was extremely bad at doing.

Tim was geared up, his bo staff rested against the gravel surface. He had spent months mapping out the position Jason appeared based on where the locket was. Tim had been certain it was magic, but he still hadn’t cracked anything beyond that. There was science woven into its workings. Math to nail the appearance of Jason in an exact spot which the two of them played with for weeks with large tapped squares on the floor of his bedroom. It actually had been the most fun Tim’s had in a long time. After Tim had spoke about freeing Jason from this torment, and Jason continued to tell him it wasn't so bad. They decided to be stupid about it and put it all on the back burner. Tim stopped meddling, and Jason was able to help Tim work on all his cases. He even helped with his school work, thankfully understanding more about particular math problems Tim had been too in his head about to realize he was goofing up.

Jason struck his pose, and Tim snorted into a fit of laughter. It was easy to see past the blood, and open wounds marred on Jason’s person. Anyone else would shriek at seeing him in such an awful state, but it has strangely become the Jason aestheic as the older boy made a point to say all the time. Even being gross about it sometimes-- even if Tim got a little upset. Because what could he do but laugh with Jason who always seemed to be in pain yet was having the time of his life living out of the back pocket of Tim Drake in a piggyback reality.

Though he's said nothing. He’s noticed that Jason’s eyes are brighter now, and as often as he died. It didn’t hurt as much as he expected or thought before. It was more a 'see you in a few hours', and Jason just closed his eyes and faded. Tim actually hadn’t realized that Jason didn’t seem to be in as much pain anymore, which was a clue right? There was promise to not pry apart the watch and tinker until the damn thing probably broke. But he still observed. Tim was one of the worlds greatest detectives besides Batman. He suddenly stopped laughing.

“What?” Jason picked up on his changed attitude immediately. 

“We have been having so much fun together, I haven’t been paying attention,” Tim admitted, walking from his spot to sit on the very edge next to Jason. Halloween from this angle brought the best views of the kids trick-or-treating, and Tim could see a hoard of Robin’s below meshed with Jokers of all things. “Do you feel the pain that you had before?” Tim inquired, and Jay shrugged.

“Not really actually,” Jason looked a hair concerned now, a deep furrow meeting his brow. Tim reached out. Just enough to brush his fingers to where his leg was and surprisingly felt something. He jolted his hand back, and Jason glanced down not having felt anything at all. Tim’s fingers hummed with an energy he couldn’t explain. Like they had fallen asleep and he needed to get the circulation moving again. 

“You okay babe?” Jay asked with a cocky lift of his brow, and Tim blushed fiercely. 

“Don’t call me that,” Tim kept quiet about what he felt, he only had so many minutes left with Jason until he was alone again.

“But you’re so cute, and this is a date. No work in sight--“  
"Ugh, you are the worse,”  
“Yeah, but you love me,”

Tim didn’t deny it. Didn’t look up to see Jason’s confidence, but he felt the intensity of his gaze looking down at the top of his head as if he was just checking to be sure. His fingers twitched around the watch, wrapping the chain to his wrist so it didn't fall. 

“I do you know,” Tim finally said. It felt strange admitting this out loud when he kept the truth buried deep in his heart.

“I know–it’s why I think I am here at all,” Jason breathed out and was gone before Tim could see him disappear. His fingers still tingled with an energy he wanted to feel again. Was something changing? And was it a good thing?

\--

"You kept this from me?!” Bruce was in half his Batman attire within the Batcave but his voice roared into interrogation territory. Normally Tim wouldn’t back down, but he was wounded without having said anything about it. He held his hand to his side, keeping his tongue quieted to lashing out more than he wanted. The slip up had came in a spike of anger from Batman over a case Tim refused to provide his source for. But then tonight Bruce's childish behavior lead to him not coming to help Tim with this fight. It ended up blowing up part of a block.

Tim’s iris’ were dilated in pain, though hidden behind his domino. He had went on patrol alone to begin with – which wasn’t new if he was honest. But tonight he had needed Batman and here he was going through Tim's things. Yelling at him about Jason’s watch of all the concerns to have. Smears of black charcoal littered in lines across his cheeks. Hair mused into a mess of soot and ash. But though his Robin suit was carved up, Batman seemed to have full focus on the object in his hands. Like that was the important clue in all the lies between them. Tim felt like a dam was about to burst apart. Emotions. Pain. Fear. Denial. Etching to constrict his throat.

“It’s mine–” Tim gritted out, snatching the watch right out of Bruce's hands. Moving towards his station to start unhooking the straps and zippers to his gear. Pain shot up his side when he moved his arm around, vision whiting out into a sideways stagger Bruce finally seemed to notice. Strong hands grabbed his forearm, pulling him towards a chair where he was prompted to sit. 

“You’re injured–”  
“The blast sent me into a wall,”

Bruce’s mouth thinned out. Pealing back the zipper on his side to reveal the trapped blood that had clotted against the bruising to his ribs. Tim felt lightheaded. No more words came out between the pair, Tim having wrapped his hands around the watch. The warm metal soothed his racing heart to being caught, that and the drugs now flowing into his vein from Alfred who was hovered over him on the operating table to bind his side so his broken ribs could hope to heal correctly. Bruce was pacing, and Tim knew he should open the watch and show him. The time ticked by though, enough that there was only two minutes left. Tears burned his eyes. They trickled down his face in mock of all the times he watched Jason's head wound run across his stubborn furrow, as if Jason could will another minute together if he thought hard enough. He needed him he realized. He needed Jason more than anyone else.

"I am sorry," Tim whispered, and opened the watch. Blood caked up the side of the metal under the latch, his eyes heavy in both pain meds and weighted tears that wouldn't stop falling.

"I'm sorry--" he blubbered again, eyes on the the exact spot Jason appeared. Bruce yelled out in fright. Alfred nearly breaking his bones from the sudden jolt. Jason looked furious at first, but then worry etched up and over all his features.

"TIM!" He tried to take a step. The entire room seemed to vibrate with an energy. Tim smelled ozone, and a static charge in the space. Tim's chest shuttered into a sob, and he hated how stupid he sounded. Making a fist while he tried to look away and not seem so utterly childish right now. But he couldn't, for the countless nights awake caught up. Jason realized that Tim needed him-- desperately. And somehow. Jason made three steps in a flickered mirage of movement that made the fallen Robin seem like a poltergeist. Tim's eyes widen at that.

"Jason you walked--"  
"I did," he tried again, the two in their own world as Bruce had taken countless steps back, putting an arm around Alfred to get him behind himself. Tim slouched against the table in layers of exhaustion.

"Tim-- never thought I'd say this but-- hey stay awake, talk to me...are you okay?"

Tim huffed a sad sound, the hard metal of the table aching his lower back while he tried to move his head more to see him. Everything was blurry now from his tears, and he felt stupid he was crying so bad. They just wouldn't stop, silently falling. Seeming endless, maybe long awaited.

"Don't cry--"  
"I can't stop--why can't I?" Tim frowned that he felt so broken. It was as if the dam he had been determined to keep up in front of Jason, and the continued act he was putting on for Batman's benefit suddenly cracked right down the middle. The pain didn't help, but it was exhaustion seeping into his delayed shock over having so many bones broken that was causing his emotions to short-wire. Embarrassment managed to creep up as well, and Tim shook his head to rattle his mind into a better place. To help him put on the masks he preferred people to see and not this-- someone who couldn't handle the mantle of Robin. Who couldn't be strong enough, smart enough-- just ENOUGH in general. 

Jason reached for him, stretching his fingers as far as he could. Tim didn't make to move, all his limbs felt like lead but he starred intensely at his best friend.

"It hurts, but not this-- just..."  
"What happened?" Jason demanded as softly as he could.

"I was caught in a blast and I just froze Jason--I realized how terrifying it must have been for you. I just stood there! Watched it Jay...I watched it tick down to five minutes before my brain kicked into gear..." He tried to sit up with a groan to his broken bones. His skin paled, and his wince had Jason matching the movement in worry. Ash dulled the color to his face as well. Outfit appeared worse in shape than with a usual fight, but he couldn't deny how similar they both appeared right now. Two very broken Robin's in the Batcave. Jason seemed to notice first. He flickered. Taking four more steps until he was right by Tim's side, and the younger was amazed that Jason had been able to move from that one spot. Months they tried and it never worked.

"What is this?!" Bruce's voice carried in desire to be frustrated, but grief choked it out. Jason turned to look over at his old partner. Anger evident above all other emotions.

"You let him get BLOWN UP!" Jason's image faded entirely, and Tim could barely keep his eyes open. But panic jolted him when Jason had disappeared. They still had a minute. He-- still had one minute left with him! The meds Alfred had put in his system was making the world hazy-- but he reached out desperately for contact and received nothing but cold air.

"How are you here-- how did this..." Bruce managed to get out, not walking forward.

Jason closed his eyes, fists curling by his side before he turned his back on Bruce. Hunching forward over Tim's worse appearance than his own, at least he felt that way. Tim disagreed. Visually he knew Jason's image was a terrible sight, and that what Batman was feeling right now had sent nightmares to Tim for weeks before he was able to see past it. But even still, blood dripped from Jason's forehead, pattering against Tim's rising and falling chest only to disappear entirely. Tim's bare skin bandaged, and raw appearing from the dotted discoloration in developing bruises. Jason moved his hands over them, mapping out what was marred on his partners body. It was the first time he say such concern on Jason. Many times he had came home a little busted up, but it came with the job. This was different. Maybe it was the blast? Or the fact Jason really could lose Tim in all this without a say in the matter.

"You came over to me," Tim chuckled in a high and light way. The pain gone for now from the rush of morphine in his vein. His thumb ran along the edge of the watch.

"You can't just blow yourself up Babybird, that is my thing. You can't copy everything I do," Jason teased, offering his knuckles to his forearm. Goosebumps littered Tim's arm, rising the black hairs up on end. "Promise me you will rest, don't explain anything to him until tomorrow okay? You hear that Bruce?"

Jason turned, offering a horrific glare unknown to himself. Bruce actually appeared as if he was seeing a ghost, and maybe he was in the grand sense of needing to place an answer to everything. But Jason always looked like he had been beaten up by the Joker. The reality that this was what Jason looked like in those moments was settling onto Bruce's mind in the worse ways. Tim understood the pain he was feeling.

"I promise, I'm sorry I called you. Ruined our secret," he shivered again.  
"You can always call me-- night babe," Jason some how smirked, and it was the last thing Tim saw before he fell asleep. Fingers still clasped on the watch yet reaching for Jason who seemed to fade from immediate view once more. Emotions burned through his visual shell until his knees gave out dramatically against the table to hit the floor. Bruce was suddenly there. Strong arms trying to grab his son.

"Jason? How are you here?"  
"Bruce-- you let him get blown up."  
"I didn't know he was going alone,"  
"Yes you did-- you see everything. You know everything. You just choose what you want to see when you are upset. Stop ignoring him...you could have lost both of us."

And with that Jason's head fell forward, his body crumbling like it always did. Yet what neither boys knew was that Jason didn't disappear right away. His weight rested against Batman's chest, cradled in his arms as it had all those years ago for a few seconds of solidness before he faded entirely.


	4. Touches

Tim knows Gotham. He knows it from behind a lens. He knows it through school and clicks, and peer pressure from his parents to do well so he could 'be something' in the future. Tim knew he was genius level with his intelligence, and yet he could easily trip over his own shoelaces and blush something embarrassing if he was caught in the perfect tease. Tim saw muggings, and blood-- he knew what the insides of a human looked like after someone gutted them, and he knew the exact smile someone made when they were in love and getting married. He saw lies. He saw hatred. He saw happiness-- the real kind that showed up on a kids face when their mom decided to buy all the kids in the park ice cream. Tim knew by way of the Earth's rotations he was only a teenager. But he couldn't help but feel like he was seeing all there was in life in regards to humanity. 

Maybe that was why this watch and the magic is was using to bring Jason's soul to Earth was so maddening. He didn't understand it. Hadn't since he started tinkering and talking to Jason about it. It was a puzzle and mystery wrapped up with a social obligation to walk a fine line of 'don't fuck this up for me I want to see you' and 'maybe we should try to figure out how this works'. Six months had gone quickly. Tim was ridiculously brave, always running headfirst into any situation no matter how dangerous or potentially life threatening it was. Jason saw that in him on night seven. Spoke about how Bruce had to work on his anger to keep him from hurting the bad guys too bad in front of Jason, but in turn-- Jason made up for it. Every night he'd hit harder. He'd feel wrath bubble up and constrict his instincts to near feral before Batman grabbed his wrists, or ankles and pulled him back. It was like a tide Jason said. Everyday they'd be at peace. Eating breakfast, or being Jason and Bruce in the public eye and then at night there would be his unspoken energy. Like a thunderstorm that was ready to strike in many directions at one time. Tim had understood the feeling. Because he had watched it. The change between Dick and Jason so profoundly linked to the energy between Batman and Robin rocked the criminal world alone. In some ways, Dick had been the distraction Bruce needed to take down the enemies. And with Jason, he had been polarized against Batman to cause the perfect tension for no one to want to get between. 

Both ways worked. And in a way, maybe because he's never actually thought about it. But right now, he was good for Batman. Maybe even the  _only_ person who could deal with **this** Batman. Because Tim was calculating, and brilliant. He was as good as a detective as Bruce if he extended his questions to his other mentors. In a way, Tim could handle being alone and working himself to the bone. Even if it hurt sometimes, and he felt a loneliness no one has even been able to quell...

No. Jason had. Jason had been the only person ever to make Tim feel cared about outside his family-- Alfred included.  

He realized he had potentially ruined everything. Guilt was the worse feeling when he initially woke up from a slightly fevered state. Equal in lying to Batman, and exposing his only friend to be scrutinized with their shared mentor. Tim had wanted to sneak out of the manor, but it had been a silly boys dream. Bruce could go at least four days without sleep, and Tim unfortunately was in a lot of pain from the broken ribs on his one side. Alfred was keeping him healthy by making him eat a huge breakfast the next morning. Tim was grateful regardless of the elephant in the room.

"Master Timothy, you do not have to explain anything right away," Alfred said with determination to shoot the actual elephant. Bruce shot a withering glance his way.

"No, he will explain now," Bruce's words were well said, but Tim could hear how much it affected him to have seen Jason.

"I found the watch, I just happened to open it at this certain time-- and he appeared to me," Tim explained by moving his eggs around the plate before Alfred slid him a piece of toast to pile them up on.

"What is he?"  
"We don't know, but we think its a projection,"  
"How long have you known?"  
"Almost half a year,"

Bruce pinched his nose, and Tim felt ashamed at first, but it shifted into a childish victory he had gotten away with it for so long. Bruce would put together all the pieces now, it would be okay.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Bruce added in his calculating way. Tim had thought about that, but his pride and selfishness had desired to work things out himself.

"Jason didn't want that Bruce, I swear-- he doesn't want this gone. Whatever it is,"  
"If hes a ghost or something magical is tethering his spirit to this world Tim we have to let him go--"

Tim's heart tightened so hard, his fingers grasped the front of his chest. Alfred rubbed his back.

"Master Bruce, surely there is enough evidence to work through on another case or two? Or perhaps an overdue apology for letting your partner work alone for these past few months is better suited for the table at this hour," Tim's cheeks flushed scarlet, lowering his eyes to shove a few decent bites of food into his mouth. Bruce didn't even wait a beat.

"I am terribly sorry for my lack of attentions to you and your case load Tim. But I understand it better now, that you weren't entirely alone-- maybe if I had been, you would have felt more inclined to speak to me about something so important,"

"Do you really think its ever wise to go against Jason's wishes on anything?" Tim blurted out, and Bruce actually smiled. Alfred's hand tightened gently against his shoulder at the sight, patting it once before making coffee for the younger lad.  
"Do you have theories?" Bruce pushed easily for more information. "About how it's working."

"Last night was the first time he ever walked towards me. I have always had to go to him," Tim had stayed up the remainder of the night after he woke from the drugs leaving his immediate system. He couldn't believe that had happened. All this time they tried to work out the limits of what Jason could do. "I think the five minutes is the countdown to his final moments alive Bruce. It's why. He looks like that. I wish, I could give you more information. It's something special about this watch. Jason thinks its fulfilling a wish of his, or maybe mine."

The conversation had ended there. And Tim was asked in the most polite way possible by Bruce to stay in the manor for a few nights if his family would allow it. As the afternoon came by, Tim relished he hadn't spoke about being able to see him now. He figured Bruce would want to see Jason tonight, so he took advantage of his room to situate himself on the bed. Cracking the watch open right before the second hand on the wall hit the time. Jason was suddenly strolling over towards him like he had been pacing in place waiting for this exact moment. Hands were on his face, trying with surprisingly much success to check everything.

"Ah, Jay-- personal space much? How are you touching me?!"  
"Don't ever do that shit again," Jason's eyes through the broken mask were intense, and vibrant-- entrancing Tim for a seconds heartbeat before he frowned.   
"I'm sorry Bruce knows--"  
"No, fuck that," Jason interrupted. "I mean don't go anywhere without backup ever again,"

Tim's frowned twitched into a drugged smile. How cute. Jason shuffled in clear equal parts embarrassment to Tim's expression, and realizing how badly he needed to hear Tim promise him. Tim reached up. Feeling the skin just around his domino and unhooked the broken piece from Jason's face. It was surreal. Being able to throw the object to the floor so he could better see him.

"I won't alright?"  
"Promise me Timbers,"  
"I promise--"

Silence filled the spacious room. Jason actually managed to sit on the bed. It was incredible really. The weight shifted, and both their knees collided, and only allowed for a few seconds to pass before they both burst out into rich childish laughter. Tim having to lay back to hold his ribs so the pain of his laugh didn't hurt so bad. The extravagant pillows fluffed around to cradle this head, musing his still damp hair from his morning rinse down.

"You walked over here again, more ran--"  
"I sure as shit did, you always give me enough motivation to feel like I can do anything at all,"  
"Took me getting hurt too? Maybe I should stop being nice to you,"  
"Better not, or Ill find a way to tickle you once you are healed up,"  
"Torture threats now Jay?"

A beat, and other feelings blossomed in his chest. Making his heart flutter, and teeth worry against his bottom lip when they made him feel happy. "What is happening--" Tim was embarrassed suddenly at their banter, when normally it was friendly this felt different. Jason seemed to feel it too cause he made to reach out and take advantage of wrapping his fingers through Tim's own holding the watch. He was _so_ cold. Making Tim's skin blossom in goosebumps. 

"I feel different Tim," Jason admitted, threading their fingers together tighter, Tim watching him relish the human contact like he was filling him with an unseen warmth. Tim traced the open holes in his gloves and peered up realizing that Jason could be either moving on, or shifting into another unknown piece of this magical oddity.

"I can tell--if this is anything to go by. You upgrading from ghost to zombie," Tim spoke quietly in attempt to keep them from both getting worried and upset. It was a small mask to shroud the real emotions swirling like a riptide against his judgement. Jason chuckled. But the room grew quiet regardless of their attempt to keep it light.  

"Where am I buried?"  
"Outback with Bruce's family, why?"  
"I don't know-- I have this bad feeling. Like, maybe my time's up,"  
"Don't say that,"

Jason seemed serious though, his brows furrowing slightly. Tim knew that look, as he did all the other ones around Robin's mask. But it was different seeing Jason appear so solid, to touch him when it hadn't been possible before. Maybe Bruce shouldn't have touched the watch. Maybe since he wanted Jason to move on the magic was listening to him instead of Tim. Panic blossomed fiercely alongside anger. Tim's frown was met with Jason's concerned gaze, because they often didn't have to use words to know what each other was thinking. 

"Tim, this might sound ridiculous. But I think this might be my last time coming back," Tim was holding the watch like he always did when Jason was near by, but it was now sandwiched between their palms. The heat of it was intense as it always was. Burning as he tightened his hold on Jason's bloodstained fingers in refusal to feel them slip away. 

"What are you suggesting?"  
"I think Bruce needs to open my grave--" 

Tim hadn't expected that. Swallowing down all the intense emotions and sharp pain in his side begging him to take another pill to numb it down. Jason once again didn't make to inquire, simply reached over in the most casual way. All his body half covering over Tim's to grab the bottle. They marveled together that his hand grasped around it, opening the container and fingering out a small white pill to hand to Tim silently. 

"What do you feel?" Tim asked, slipping the pill between his lips with a sip of water with his free hand. Refusing pointedly to remove the other. Jason laid down. He always laid down, ended up appearing tired as the minutes passed by and he couldn't quite breathe as well. 

"I taste stale air Timmy, smell the Earth. Before it was nothing. I only saw, heard, remembered. But now I feel something solid under me, not this bed or your hand. I feel two places at once," Tim slid down carefully, wrapping his arm around Jason's shoulders, letting their hands press up against where Jason's beating heart should be pounding. Tim rested his cheek against his back. Listening. Begging for a  _thump_. Anything to prove that it was changing for the better, but only blood seeped into the linens. Only the rich scent of Kevlar and peaks of skin torn open in violent attack. Only the cold seeped from Jason's body into Tim's chest, and his tears burned his vision again. Pressing tighter. Holding him as much as he could possibility. 

"What if Bruce ruined this?" Tim breathlessly asked. Feeling Jason's body fade under his arm, enough he had to lift it so he didn't fall through it. He pressed his hand to his eyes, not wanting to watch. Not wanting to believe this really was the last time.   
"Don't say that--" Jason turned around to face him. Tim's fingers seeped through the solidness and only grasped the watch. He faced Jason now, his breath pressing against broken cheekbones, and a line of blood he wished would stop making his eyes so impossibly bright from the contrasting hues. 

"But he touched it, the watch Jason-- what if his want for you to move on was great enough to influence it," Tim blamed Bruce. He did, and felt the reality of his blame fill the void of grief that stirred denial and steps of bargaining. Tim didn't think he could go through the grief of losing Jason again. Not after seeing him for six months, every day-- sometimes twice a day. He needed him. Batman needed them both. "Don't go--" 

"I don't believe that...Bruce-- _my dad_..." Jason sighed. A smirk and resigned expression filling the softer lines of his boyish face before he faded entirely. "He...would only wish me alive."


	5. Somethings Dont Have Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So this is an AU! So please don't expect this to follow all the canon <3 Enjoy! I had a lot of fun with this chapter. Let me know what you are thinking! Or if you want to see anything <3

"Is he being serious?" Bruce asked that night. It had felt surreal to have experienced all Tim had in the last day. From the fight that had gone very wrong, to the explosion that had marred and physically broken his body to the point he knew he couldn't work tonight. From the argument with Bruce-- and an emotional mess he had found himself in because of Jason. It had made Tim pass out in bed in needed rest for hours until Bruce came in. Alfred was busy pulling the sheets off the bed, Tim was sitting in the window sill. The glass panels open letting his one leg dangle out against the stone. This room of the house has always been his, not that Bruce and him shared that type of relationship in the public eye. Tim was grateful for the sanctuary. Away from his quiet house, into another that always felt like-- home.

"I think he was," Tim was watching the sunset, it's bright punches of reds had illuminated the coming night sky. Bruce was sitting in an oversized chair facing Tim, his fingers threaded together and looking far older than he was.

"Are you feeling okay?" Tim was asked instead of further inquiring about digging up Jason's grave. He peered over his shoulder back inside, not having realized his arm was cradled around his middle to hopefully quell the nagging aches of pain there.

"I'm glad I slept if I'm honest, did you?"   
"Actually I did--"

Such a normal conversation this was, but for some reason both of them met each other's eye and Tim realized it was another apology from Bruce. He was trying to show he cared more than he usually acted towards Tim, or even Robin. But Tim knew deep down it wasn't because of anything he did. It was that he had saw Jason. The heart and soul of the family and this house-- no matter what anyone else thought. His presence was the thread linking them together. Motivated each person a different way. Alfred with his parental need to be there to offer advice and insights into things they didn't see in themselves. Bruce with being a Father figure, in feeling honest love towards someone who didn't see him as the rich, pompous Wayne but as both Batman and Dad. Dick had seen Jason as a way out of Gotham, wary at first and maybe jealous a little bit. But Tim saw how much Dick had grown once he left this city and picked up his own life and hero name outside of Batman's shadow regardless of how much he would always be apart of the family. Tim... well he had looked up Jason. Put him on a pedestal well deserving when he was younger. Motivated him to be more, to push harder, to try every angle until he was satisfied with the answer or outcome.

Tim had to get Jason back. There had to be a way.

"I will see the grave exhumed tomorrow," Bruce finally responded in answer. Tim didn't want to see his dead body-- and he had a feeling Bruce didn't either.

"I can't patrol, but I will work the computer for you tonight Bruce since you will need to check my route for me. Ill also message you if he shows up,"

Bruce nodded his thanks and understanding, lifting himself from the chair to help Alfred with the oversized basket of linens. The two left Tim in the window in silence. For that, he was grateful for. They all knew when it was the better choice than lingering in awkward small talk until unnecessary feelings cropped up. Tim wanted a clear mind. Preparing himself for if Jason didn't show up.

Later that night he was aiding Bruce, but it was a quiet night in rare form. Currently, he was at a station having taken apart the watch entirely. Every single piece of it was being photographed, sized, and marked in an inventory number. It was overkill, but the batcomputer was aiding in cataloging everything to make it a little less strenuous. He had one eye on the time all night. Watching the hours tick by at what felt like a slower pace only because his attention was on it. There were odd markings on the underside of the mirror the computer was picking up to be mystical in nature. Not that Tim understood what that meant.

"How is it going?" Batman came in his ear through the comm. Tim was shirtless so the binding around his middle wasn't so uncomfortable, bruises had came to full color now. Marring his chests in pockets of purple and blue. He had one hour to get the watch back together perfectly, which he knew he could-- having taken the object apart so many times now he was sure he could do it blindfolded.

"The computer found some trace elements of what I assume are runes or magical scribed markings behind the mirror. I hadn't ever taken that piece off cause of the crack-- I was worried it would shatter. But it's all in the computer now, I'm looking at a 3D model it's put together from the information," Tim hunched forward with large magnified glasses, Alfred was handing him the pieces in the right order like they were performing surgery.

"Thank you for doing that, should help to have it in case anything happens,"

Tim ignored the tightness to his chest in anxiety over that reality.

"Fifty three minutes," Bruce added quietly, stilling Tim's hands.   
"Yes," he was sure he whispered back, feeling Alfred nudge another piece towards his hands to urge him to finish up. His mind was reeling in worry however perfect he was reassembling the watch.

"What will you do if it doesn't work?" Bruce's questions were rough in his Batman voice, making Tim wince. Not wanting to think about it, but also that concern having been all he's thought about for hours.

"Probably find a shovel and dig up his grave myself," Tim admitted without realizing his mouth was running off his honest thoughts.

"I figured as much, I'll be home shortly," Batman's comm went off, the silence having stopped Tim from working again. Alfred lifted his goggles, offering him an unspoken hug when he met his eye.

"Master Timothy, of anyone to solve this riddle it will be the pair of you. It's good you are working together on this don't you think?" Alfred's voice was soothing yet sharp and to the point. Tim has learned to love the way he spoke. How it focused his racing worries and concerns to fine tune the direction of his emotions onto what was the most important element.

"I do," Tim sighed into Alfred's shoulder, pulling away to yank down the goggles and finished putting the rest of the watch back together. Batman arrived in the Batmobile minutes after, it's roaring engine cutting off in the cave to be parked and stored next to the others. Alfred was walking down with tea in hand. Bruce stripped out of the top half of his Batman gear-- moving about quickly to be sure he had what they needed in case this didn't work. There was an awful cloud in the air as the minutes ticked down. Tim was pacing. The pocket watch clasped in his palm tight enough to indent the shape. The computer was running through the details found on the object, it's screens rooting through every database on Earth for any answer.

Tim had laughed deliriously over it a few seconds ago. What if this was all just a one off? No actual answers-- science related. Or magical. What if this had been an actual wish granted? Not to be explained or solved. Just accepted. Tim didn't know if Bruce and him could settle for that. Would this become an obsession? Another thing to distract and settle on both Batman and Robin as a failure over seeing it as a gift of having been able to share that time at all?

"He said you would only wish him alive," Tim blurted out in his pacing, stretching and twisting his middle to test how much the broken bones ached. Bruce laid down a shovel on the work table beside a bunch of other gear to do the digging themselves the hard way. Tim could see the manic glint in his mentor's eye. They were on the same page he realized. Whatever happened right now would set the course for them as a team. To find answers. To understand and be sure Jason was dead and moved on.

"Jason-- he was the best," Bruce sighed, turning to rest against the metal table. Once again pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling an exhausted sigh. "Dick was... we were partners. But Jason-- he was the first person to make me feel like I could be a Father."

Tim understood. Jason and him had talked about it often in the last six months. He had learned how difficult it was to hide anything from Jason. He had this uncanny way of seeing through bullshit and lies. Tim had the mask wearing down to a fine science, but Jason saw past it. Had reassured him of how Bruce's behaviors sometimes spoke differently than what was seen. Tim didn't feel like he was a replacement Robin anymore because of Jason's insistence he was well worth taking it up. His constant reassurance that Robin was a title well deserved to those who wanted it had made Tim love him a little more.

Alfred insistently put a cup of tea in Tim's cold hands, and he took it graciously. Sipping the sweet honey and chamomile, starring intently at the exact spot he knew Jason should appear.

"People have come back to life," Bruce filled the quiet cave, "no one I have talked too has a clear answer of the how, or what it's like after."

Tim could hear the frustration in Bruce's voice over it, and it cracked a small smile to his lips.

"I'm getting a feeling this all will never make sense. And you know," he fingered the edge of the watch with his thumbnail. Knowing it was nearly time. "Jason said that. He said something along the lines of 'sometimes shit just happens Timbers'." Bruce chuckled, shaking his head in amusement from his position, but they were all starring forward. Alfred's knuckles white against his knees while he sat at the computer. Bruce's arms folded and keen, Batman eyes distant in working out a further plan.

Tim. He was aware at how loud his heart was thumping. How he could feel the rush of blood through all his veins pulse against his wounds, and small cuts marred into his skin. He flipped open the watch right on time. Awaiting the snarky voice, maybe selfishly wanting to feel Jason's palms pressing on his cheeks again.

But it was silent. Jason wasn't here. Bruce turned around to face the computer, tapping various keys until the graveyard out back was brought up on the camera. Tim was in shock again. Feeling an icy constriction keeping him from moving as the idea of the afternoon having been the last time to ever see him again sunk into a solid rock in his gut.

"Tim--" Bruce was lifting his arm and putting on a hoodie, the soft fabric smelled like his mentor over being his own. Bruce zipped it up while his brain tried to catch up, but before he could comment Bruce was dragging him out of the cave.

The watch was still open, though there was something new happening against the heat of his palm. It was ticking! The hands were moving! Tim's breathing escalated, cradling his side as all three of them ran at full speed towards the backyard. Bruce and Alfred had shovels, and a bag of gear. Their metal edges struck the ground repeatedly with careful delivery. It was maddening. Something out of a movie or tv show watching two people dig a grave this way. Every scoop made Tim lightheaded. What if he was in there? What if he was suffocating?! Tim fell down on his knees, using his hands to help scoop what he could. His broken bones screamed in protest to the sharp movement, but they all dug deeper. Down further until they struck wood.

The hole wasn't wide enough to open from the hinges. Their desperation to simply crack it apart was making them all irrational. Bruce had another tool to start cutting across the top wood instead. The sound of squealing hardwood splintering apart had Tim holding a hand to the backk if his neck in anxiety. What if it was just his dead body? What if they were acting impulsively and were desecrating Jason's grave on a hope and prayer he was alive? Alfred paused Bruce for a moment with a hand on his shoulder, and all three of them realized how caught up there were. Tim was hyperventilating, teeth chattering as he felt the ticking from the watch settle against his frantic heart.

The wood was struck mightily from the other side. Bruce not having been touching it as the small square piece from the top of the casket bust open with the sharp jab of an elbow revealing someone very much alive. Jason was trying to shuffle his body constricted in the tight space without being able to get the angle right to pull himself out. Instead he was met with three very shocked faces not moved, or attempted to help right away. His eyes were off Tim realized. There was fear there, not the snarky comments and teasing banter they had hours before. He stilled completely still nestled in the casket, the hole barely big enough to show his shoulders and head to the others.

"Give us a second, we will get the rest open," Bruce was saying but to Tim it was warped in tone, time doing a strange shift around him to make him sink into himself.

"Jason?" he whispered, hands covered in dirt while Alfred and Bruce forced Tim out of the small hole so they could get the rest of the casket top open. Their eyes met, but Tim didn't think he was seeing him. A heart beat, and Jason's pupils dilated. A horrible feral scream tore out of him, nails scratched along the wood yanking against the open hole to get himself out of casket. Bruce was speaking frantically, cutting the pieces as fast as he could, but Jason managed to squeeze himself out. Dressed in a nice suit, his body was marred in those old wounds from Joker. Tim knew them all. His eyes darting to how real this was, and yet fear crept up on him for the first time.

Jason shoved Bruce with a hard press of his palm, knocking him back against Alfred until they were forced to stay in the grave. Tim was rooted on his knees at the top. Watching someone who should be dead crawl out of a hole in front of a tombstone and physically claw their way towards you wasn't something anyone could prepare you for. Jason's hands grasped his shoulders in dizzying speeds, the grip painfully strong-- chest heaving in the night air.

"Jay?" Tim dared to say, watching Jason's eyes cart over Tim's face. Darting towards the watch with some kind of clarity seeping the fog from his mind.

"Tim?" Jason's voice scratched out, rough and raw.

"Jay you just climbed out of a grave, only you would do something so dramatic," Tim made to joke, because it's just what they did when things got too hard to comprehend entirely. Jason's lips twitched to smile and how his soul sang to the familiar sight. Tim saw Alfred and Bruce climb out of the hole in the corner of his eye, worry etched on their features. Jason trumbled like he was freezing, his hands still clasped tightly on both sides of Tim's shoulders-- leaning his weight forward until he had his head fall completely against him. Tim wrapped his arms around his waist and up his back, ignoring the protest of his broken ribs. Alfred was crying, sitting with his hands behind him and watching carefully at the exchange. Bruce was looking concerned, but Tim could see the relief-- the yearning for it all to be real as well.

"We should check you out okay? We gotta be sure you are going to be alright--" Tim said carefully, with a soothing tone some how. Even if he was feeling a little crazy. Even if all of this was way more than he or the bat family could ever have wished for.


	6. Flip of a Coin

Tim couldn't think of anyone else who had held his hand before. It was a silly, probably hormonal notion to think on, but it allowed his mind to drift off in such a direction easily. He was situated with his cheek laid down on the edge of Bruce’s king size bed. It wasn’t often he found himself in this particular part of Wayne Manor. Bruce had a few secrets beyond Batman, and Tim never had a good enough excuse to go snooping like the detective and nosy part of his personality desired too. It smelled like Bruce in a really creepy way that Tim was oddly finding comfort in. Feeling deep down it pulled more from the fact his own family wasn’t entirely around as much to even know what his actual Father smelled like. No aftershave, or deodorant to trigger the calming feeling of knowing exactly where he was. 

It was all he could focus on at the moment. The hand tucked between his fingers. They twitched gently in a steady pulse. Warmth finally seeping into the furthest tips to drag a pleasant comfort in a way that seemed to aid Tim's sake more than Jason's. The walk back to the Manor had been a blur, and Tim was knew he should be slightly shaken he had collapsed outside. Maybe it was the drop of adrenaline, but the moment Jason had wrapped his arms around his shoulders he had felt a bone penetrating weakness overwhelm him.

He could feel eyes burning against the top of his head while Bruce droned on with Alfred in hushed tones so the boys wouldn’t hear them. They both were eager to treat every wound Tim already knew existed on Jason's body. Everyday Jason and him would sometimes look at a different one with their own shared whispers of what Joker had did to earn it. Sometimes Jason wouldn’t be up for working a case so they would laugh quietly in the dark of Gotham and tell one another their favorite parts of being Robin. What made them different, what made them the same. It had soothed Tim’s constant worry he wasn’t entirely worthy of the title, but Jason-- he always stood behind him. Somehow. In a way that Tim couldn’t ever understand. 

Tests were being run. Blood drawn. Machines hooked up with insistent beeping distantly filling the space of Tim's mind. He kept his face down against the soft, silk linens being ruined with dirt, blood, and grime from the grave dig. The hoodie from Bruce still rested around his shoulders. It was a workout one, over sized on Tim’s smaller frame but it was very soft-- well worn and broken in to make him feel cocooned. Jason moved subtly to hook their joined palms to the edge of the hood to hull it over the mess of dark hair on the top of his head. It all made him tired, his breathing evening out. Not consciously aware he was acting strange, or that Bruce and Alfred were talking to him.  

Emotions were draining enough to deal with on a normal basis when the world quieted down and he was left alone for too long to really think on all he dealt with in his teenage life. Tim was sad. Determined yes, most definitely. He had plans typed up for collage projects, and thesis ideas to better equip Batman and Robin, but it was lonely. It could be. Bruce wasn’t the best company, and Alfred could be when he needed someone to sit with. But Jason in the last six months had been his best friend. Someone he came to rely on to pick fun at him, to make his heart tight in strange new feelings. Tim had been so convinced the entire outcome would leave him alone. That it would end in devastation. Not this though. Jason actually breathing, solid, and alive? That hadn’t even been an option.  

Jason was silent. He hadn't talked another word less Tim's name when he first grabbed a hold of him. Pain was evident in the old wounds coming back to life much in reflection to how he appeared before when he used the pocket watch. Said item now resided in the depths of his pockets. Too scared to touch it.

"Tim?" Bruce's words barely registered. He was starring off towards the wall. Warm. So warm now that the hood had been brought up, and the reassuring sounds of life from Jason's touch had lulled his usually distracted mind into a complete numbness. "You okay?" 

He swallowed thickly, felt a tinge of saltiness and dirt taste upon his tongue when he went to dampen his lips to speak.

"I don't think so--" he croaked out, feeling Bruce's hand wrap around the front of his forehead to check his temperature the old fashion way. His head lulled back upon the gentle touch, eyes heavy lidded.

"You are very warm--" Bruce shifted around him, and hooked under his hamstrings to lift him up before he could protest being removed from the chair. Jason's hand tightened greatly, forcing the movement to jar him when Tim had been hulled up.

"Jason-- let us check him," came Alfred's cool response, but when Tim cracked his eyes he could see something dark in Jason's eyes. A haunted look. Fear even. He didn't like it. Didn't like that this wasn't what it was before, their joking, and laughing while solving cases. Something awful was twisting around them. He could feel it. This magic from the locket seeped into them in an irreversible way, it slithered words in his head. Haunting tones and laughter at the mirage it would turn into. But any words from Tim to explain how he was truly feeling were distant echos. The fear in Jason’s eyes burned through all his veins, and sharp pain electrocuted up his side from the bones shifting uncomfortably against Batman's chest had his fingers slipping until they disconnected from Jason's hand. The limb fell dramatically against the bed, and Tim heard Bruce’s voice. Felt him being shook. 

“Tim-- what is wrong? Tell me what’s going on? What do you feel-- Alfred grab that for me,” Tim was settled onto the base of the bed. Feeling small. Frail when he was suppose to be Robin. He tried to push Bruce’s hands away, but they were unzipping his hoodie. The cold from the room hitting his fevered skin making his teeth chatter. 

“Something is _in_ me--” he gritted out, curling his fingers into the sheets when he felt his blood boil. The fever made the world dot in faint blackness, warping the colors against the walls and wood on the ceiling. “The locket-- Bruce it’s doing--” Jason had rolled up from the other side of the bed. Wrapping a cold palm to Tim’s forehead, and the touch calmed whatever was happening. Feeling doused in ice and a shot of clarity had his brain reeling to figure out what was going on. But all he could do is glance over at Jason. Being reminded that he was here-- _shit he really is alive._  

His eyes rolled into his head and passed out before he could hear Jason scream something awful.

\--

Morning light was actually what woke him up. He was the one in bed now, a cooling towel on his bare chest and the brightest of eyes starring intently at his face only a couple inches away. Tim's breath hitched in a little fright to the proximity, but mostly because it was Jason. Here. Not some fevered dream.

"You're up," came a whisper from Jason. A white streak of hair tickled against his eyelashes. Tim starred for as long as he could, not moving. Feeling like his body was made of lead. 

"Clearly," he retorted. Jason grin stretched the bandages against his forehead, and on his cheek. 

"I don't know why I feel so horrible," Tim sighed exhausted again, sliding closure to Jason's side. Letting his eyes close.

"They don't know either, but then again. I am here so nothing makes sense," Jason ran his thumb across his eyelashes, down his cheekbones, and tucked hair behind his ear. Tim's mind was trying to get internal gears moving, to work out the case-- to selfishly know all the answers. Jason picked up on it just from the smallest furrow between his brows that he pressed gently into with his thumb to worry it away like a smudge on paper. "Don't overthink things babybird. Maybe you just need rest."

"Everyone is always saying that," Tim yawned, a shiver raking his body so he turned into Jason’s side more. Uncaring how needy it was, and maybe what it would look like when the adults came in. Jason shifted his palm across his chest, rubbing soothing circles into his bicep.

"You are running a very high fever, more than my own. You take horrible care of yourself," Jason's snide comment came with a smirk Tim could hear in his tone. He opened his eyes to see it, in awe that this was happening.

“I think that locket did something to me,” he said quietly, resting his head down enough that it laid on Jason’s shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind. 

“What do you mean?”  
“I think it got into me some how, like it’s magic...I could feel it coursing in my blood. It was making it hard to breathe, hard to think,”

Jason frowned against his head. 

“You will figure it out, I just want you better. You are suppose to be taking care of me Timbers. I was the one dead remember?” Tim snorted, 

“Yeah yeah,” they grew quiet, the sunlight peaking around the thick drapes the only light in the room. Tim watched the swirl of dust particles catch in it’s rays, hypnotized gently from the movement of Jason’s thumb to his fevered skin and the matching visual. 

At some point he fell back asleep, waking up only when he realized he was alone in the bed. Jason was standing in front of the mirror only in a pair of boxers. Dressing a wound against his left side that was oddly looking better already. Jason’s gaze met his from the reflection just when Bruce walked in not appearing like he had been asleep at all yet. Tim was not surprised. 

“Jason-- you’re up,” the words choked off as the two were suddenly hugging. Tim watched from the bed in a envy saturated victory. This had been what he wished for right? He had said Bruce needed Jason more than anyone else in the world, and here they were. Hugging. Tim watched more emotion show on the Batman than he’s seen since he took up the mantle of Robin. Would Jason want Robin now? They were probably close to the same age now, maybe only a year apart or two. But even if he did want it that would be fine. Tim could work on other things for Batman, he had a list-- an overwhelmingly long list of upgrades to focus on. 

“Tim-- you’re up too?” Tim glanced up from the spot he had starred off on and met Bruce’s worried face right by the bed, his weight shifted him slightly. A palm pressed against his forehead and cheek again, and it blossomed a different warmth in his chest over the affection and concern Bruce was showing. 

“You’re both still running a fever," Bruce said almost annoyed at himself in that ever worrying way. Tim cracked a smile at the expression, leave it to Bruce to blame himself for a fever.

"Whatever is happening we will work it out,” Bruce actually smiled down at Tim and he laughed a little. “And you need my help is what you mean to say but won't,” Tim bravely added, and Bruce surprisingly nodded. 

“You do understand the biology side of all this much better than any of us,” Bruce complimented, and Jason in the background gave a cheesy thumbs up to Tim behind Bruce’s back. Tim shook his head amused, loving the feeling the room was filled with. Happiness. Family. Love maybe? 

“Rest today, the both of you. It’s lunch time, Alfred is making a meal to feed an army and we're expected to eat all of it I am sure,” Bruce seemed fond of the exchange over concerned about why it all was happening. Tim was grateful for the time to adjust, even if it was a facade. Both Jason and Tim knew Bruce had been up since last night working all the angles. Even the watch was removed from his pocket and probably in the depths of the batcave undergoing every test known to man. His brain still felt foggy, and his body zapped of energy so he settled into the comfortable bed he didn't entirely belong in but wanted to never leave. Jason was doing well though. Standing. Smiling. His wounds healing. The longer he watched the two of them chat by the mirror Tim swallowed the concern surfacing to constrict his throat.

Magic was an unknown area to their family. Tim had theories based off of what he did know. So what if his wish had a price he hadn’t been prepared to give? Would they be okay with what he did? 


	7. Is Love Magic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: self harm moment towards the end that is only to prove a point over being done in a dark mental space. Either way, be careful if you are sensitive to that.

Winter Break

It's been weeks.

Weeks of getting better. Trying to find some system of schedule to their hectic life now that it literally included Jason Todd. Weeks of back to school and homework he could do in his sleep. Hiding his broken ribs from his parents (who weren't even back to notice if Tim was honest) until they were relatively healed up. Tim had gotten so frustrated these last few days before the holiday break that he had gloriously marched to the Deans office to his private school and demanded to be tested out so he could graduate early. They had the audacity to laugh at him, but then he had a signed letter from Wayne Enterprises offering him a job as Assistant Director of Scientific Development in the Area of Robotic Engineering. That had shut them up pretty quickly, and Tim had been promised a chance come January when the new year began to test through what they had left of High School. Which should have meant studying, and saying goodbye to casual friends at the elite school-- but Tim didn't care. It was all so trivial in the grander sense of duty to Gotham and his family. High School was sadly a waste of time to someone with his genius and Tim had finally accepted he didn't have to appear normal anymore.

Blame Jason. He's been his cheerleader since he crawled out of his grave and pinned himself to his hip. Not that Tim was complaining. He was addicted to seeing Jason happy. In seeing how Bruce's mood had shifted and changed. 

"So did it work with asking the school about graduating early?" Bruce asked behind a cup of tea. It was getting darker early with the winter season upon them. Meaning they had all lost a lot of sleep when shifts started earlier in the day. Jason was currently cooking french toast, scrambled eggs, and grilling steaks for them all. Alfred was actually folding laundry near by, a small fond smile on his face undisturbed from being booted from the kitchen.

"Bruce you seriously asking boy wonder if waving that letter convinced them? Come on--" Bruce peered up from his notes.

"What letter?"

Tim chuckled, trying to hide his smile while Jason hammered nails back on his coffin. Jason didn't miss a beat even though he fucked up.

"I typed up and forged a letter signed by Bruce Wayne saying he offered a job to Timbers here for an Assistant Director position at Wayne Enterprises," Bruce's brow raised. Tim felt the gaze shift his way and he couldn't look up without laughing cause it had been what really let them get away with his demands. Even if Tim was smart enough to pass everything, the fact someone like Bruce Wayne had seen to his future had painted a stronger light in his favor. Tim knew for a fact Jason had forged it all, but had played along that he had no idea. But when thoughts on lying in front of Batman became reality he couldn't help but laugh. It bubbled out sweetly, and then spilled past his palm pressed desperately into his mouth-- cheeks reddening only because he turned to peek at Jason who was wearing a Superman apron with his hands on his hips.

"You are back for barely six weeks and you are in trouble already,"

Jason shrugged, "it worked though didn't it? Plus Tim qualifies for the job. I combed through all your offers, and none have his natural out of the box smarts. Have you even seen his idea book? It makes all these MIT guys look like chumps."

"Is this true?" Bruce turned on Tim who was pointedly drinking his water hoping to not be roped up into it all, but it was hard to deny the pride he was feeling. Jason always did this. Saw the potential in people who didn't entirely realize it. Jason winked at him and turned back to the steaks so they didn't burn.

"I have been developing glass that can repair it's self," Tim admitted now that there was more a Batman stare down taking place over a Bruce.

"See?" Jason chimed in, plating things with Alfred who came up to help set the table.

"And I have reprogrammed two of my robots to aid in drilling a new room through the northern cave to store our dynamite. I mapped out the area, and determined where the blast radius would be if something did happen to go off on accident. They are working on it now actually. Should be done by the weeks end," he folded his french toast in half and shoved it in his mouth so he didn't speak anymore. It was weird. To almost brag about things he just enjoyed to do. There wasn't expectation to make them, and never was he asked too. Tim just had these ideas and he build the computer code for his robots to operate how he wanted them too.

"Well, show me what you have been working on. And I will give you the job officially," Bruce calmly said in closing to the conversation.

"Right-- no more business talk at the table!" Jason's hand wrapped around the back of his shoulders. Leaning in to softly knock their heads together in affection.

"You are grounded--" Bruce added with his mouth full. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Like I haven't been since I rose from the grave,"

"You know people can't know you are alive Jason. There is no clean way to spin it, and we still have Joker to deal with. If he finds out you are alive, it's the..."

"No more business talk at the table--" Jason interrupted. "I slaved over this breakfast for dinner, and you will eat it up."

Tim watched Bruce's jaw clench slightly in concern, but didn't press for more. Jason hadn't wanted to talk about Joker at all once they started to feel a little better. It had taken awhile. Tim had gotten really sick, and the pair haven't admitted it to Bruce yet but they had multiple theories on what was happening between them. But regardless. It was hard for Tim to sympathize because when Jason had appeared before from the watch he had chatted about his final moments with eerie clarity and calm. Tim knew all about it though. Every detail. He could close his eyes and picture how Joker held the crowbar. Which way he struck Jason's body. How it sounded, the laughing over the grunts of pain. Jason's hand wrapped over his thigh, threading his hand which was clamped into his skin unaware. He relaxed suddenly conscious a few pairs of eyes were on him, and offered a small smile while diving into the obnoxious amount of food Jason had put in front of him.

Later that night Tim was gearing up. He wanted to patrol tonight, and Batman had a few things on their list he was excited to wrap up. Jason was leaning against a table in the Batcave. Starring at his old Robin outfit suspended in a chamber.

"You haven't told him yet--" Jason chimed easily, shifting up to step closer to Tim who was situating his gloves between his fingers.

"Clearly I haven't, I figured after I graduate and get my actual parents off my back I will. Why did you have to add that job offer? You know I can't do that even if it was surprising Bruce wanted to go along with it--"

"You should take it--"

"You just don't want me coming with you. Which isn't happening so you need to quit it,"

"Damn straight I don't," Jason was suddenly close, his breath against the back of his neck and Tim turned his cheek to catch the dark look in Jason's eyes.

"If you think The Demon is the right person to approach about this I will be there by your side. I understand why you are hesitant to talk to Bruce about it, but--"

"I know, I know. Me not telling him I was going after my mom had been what lead to me taking a crowbar to the face. But it's not the same. Whatever this is now involves you and it just--" 

Jason paused, and Tim turned fully around. Requiring a deeper inhale to quell the concern overturning his stomach in worries they both were hiding well from the family. Jason reached forward, always holding his hand. The touch had been the first they shared, and something Jason instinctively grabbed for without realizing it. Tim always went along with it. Liking the warmth that flooded his gut and kissed the tips of his ears from their proximity. But it never went further than snuggling. Tim was strangely okay with that, though he couldn’t deny the energy between them. Like their connection couldn’t be defined as magnetic or kinetic, but there was something unspeakable there. Intertwining them. Their heartbeats in sync, their emotions woven in opposition and clarity with their similarities.

Theories. That was the scientific approach. Just how they took apart the locket and tried to solve why it was ticking away now when it hadn’t before. Why it was ordinary. No magical energy or residue _that they could tell_  anywhere on it. It was like this all had been some cosmic test. To see if it could work and it did.

How did anyone explain ‘I made a wish he’d come back-- and well. He did.’ 

“Tim, you are hiding it well because it’s what you do. But I can feel this thing between us too,” Tim swallowed thickly to immediately deny it. Because he hadn’t wanted Jason to worry. He didn’t want anyone too.  

“If you think Ra's al Ghul can reverse the effects then why don’t you want me there?” Tim asked seriously, “you can’t have it both ways. You can’t love me for saving you and then shield me from what could save me.” There. He put it too words, however felt his body respond to being honest with himself when it always was difficult. Jason’s frown lowered his intense stare down, a huff of frustration breaking past his scowl. 

“I don’t trust him. Bruce never did. But if there is anything to fix _anything_  we know of. It’s the Lazarus Pit,” Tim didn’t respond, they had talked about this in great detail a few days ago. Knew Bruce was outreaching to every trusted contact he had about resurrection. But for some reason Ra's al Ghul wasn’t on that list, not any they snooped on to find.

“We don’t have all the data. I could be fine...” Tim’s problem was always denial. He’d lie and lie, put on whatever mask he needed to hide the truest reasons for things. From himself. From his family. It was instinctual from his time alone growing up. It was easier to pretend things were fine while _he_  worked out the case. It had been the reason he had fell in love with the idea of Batman and Robin. Why he had stalked them, and learned their schedules so he could snap a few pictures. But even that ‘reason’ was faulty. He really did because he didn’t want to be in his room anymore. He wanted a real reason to fight for the things he believed in. And Jason-- he had been one of the realest missions he’s ever had, and yet-- he was still lying. Still trying to pretend everything was fine because Jason was back and that had been the best thing to ever happen. 

Jason’s anger flared. And he reached over to the table, grabbing a spare batarang and cut his forearm before Tim could stop him. A line carved into Tim’s skin-- a hot flash of pain matching the burning red wound dripping on the floor of the batcave on Jason’s forearm. The pain ignited many emotions at once. Shock. Surprise. Embarrassment. And a small hint of arousal he’d deny. His heart rate increased when Jason set the weapon down, reaching forward to press all his palm over the line of blood seeping into Tim’s glove. Tim was frozen momentarily. Watching Jason. 

“You know I am smarter than anyone gives me credit for, so please don’t hide things from me,” Jason whispered in a low growl. “Let me do this. Maybe if I take a bath in that retched Pit it will remove whatever spell or magic linking your fucking life to mine. Because I won’t have it.” He stepped forward, wrapping his arms across Tim’s shoulders. Pulling him against his chest firmly enough Tim staggered forward and slipped his own around his waist, pressing his forehead into his shoulder. 

“I won’t Tim...I won’t accept that I will be your weakness. Not when of all the things you could have wished for...you thought me worth it...well. _You thought me worth_ being here,” Tim bit his bottom lip to stop him from speaking, wanting Jason to just tell him a better plan so he had something to go off of. “Let me try,” Jason was seeking permission, his grip tightening around him. Tim’s chest and heart ached. 

“It could ruin everything,” Tim responded finally, “we don’t know enough. It could take you away. It could make you crazy. It could hurt me regardless. Why change what is good? Why Jason-- why leave when we just got you back?”

Jason sighed, pulling away entirely. The cold air wasn’t felt against his Kevlar but Tim shivered anyway. “Go on patrol,”

“Don’t leave,” Tim pressed the domino on his eyes, leaving the cut on his arm exposed for the moment. Enjoying the heat pulsing from the pain, but more than anything he really liked seeing that Jason’s self infliction was healing magically. Jason was watching him over seeing the line close up entirely even though Tim's was still shiny in fresh blood. Jason could see the hint of pleasure twitch on Tim's features even with the mask on.

“I’d never do that to you--” Jason promised. And Tim needed to hear that, felt that he was being honest. Because Tim couldn't handle abandonment. Tim felt brave in his gratitude. This time invading Jason's space. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, something chastised and surprising enough to freeze Jason all together. Tim smirked in minor distracted victory. 

"Okay. Work on your armor, I put something in there for you," he turned to leave. Walking forward towards one of the many computers to call down a motorcycle. "And Jason?" He peered over and Jason was still standing there looking stupid and dumbfounded. It was a new look on the older teenager, and Tim couldn't deny how much it was amusing him. He waited a second just so Jason's gaze lifted up to meet his own shrouded behind his mask. 

"I still really love you," Tim's heart fluttered in a half beat to his declaration, but he realized how much easier it was to say it out loud now. Time didn't always pass in their favor, and he didn't ever want to have regrets when it came to that word. Because it had been why he had made the wish in the first place. Why he had found that watch and grasped it in his palm with a worry of words spilling past his lips in a beg for Jason to return, to talk to him. To see him. To know him in anyway when it was just a trinket with scratched initials in the worn metal. Tim could barely remember life before Jason. Bruce and him shared that now, Alfred too. It was like that dark few months hadn't happened. As if  _that_ piece of time was the dream. Jason had to know how important he was...that Tim would literally do anything to keep him alive and here. Even at the expense of himself. 

"You shouldn't," Jason retorted instantly but it wasn't meant in honesty, his focus was on the cut still against Tim's arm. Glaring at it. Tim hooked his leg over the bike, and made to pull on a helmet knowing Jason would be training the rest of the night to burn through his emotions and anger. 

"Yeah well-- good luck trying to convince me after all this time," Jason smiled then, a chuckle rattling his shoulders gently. He shook his head-- waving him off. Tim roared the engine to life and flew down the tunnel leading towards Gotham. 

"I love you too," came over the comm's immediately.


	8. Start of Team Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are moving time a year forward. The main part of this AU plot is unfolding in the next two chapters! Hope you are ready for some Team Red! Also note: I know the age things are ALL fucked up I swear DC is a mess with this. But right now as of this chapter, and my story. Jason is 18 and Tim is 17. :)

The new year had come up and passed. And before they realized how fast the year was going by, the holidays were upon them. Tim and Jason had formed a truce in the area of seeking out Ra's al Ghul. It was still in the works to approach the horrid man, but they needed a solid plan in case the League of Assassins decided to kill them both before they could hope to seek council. So they were training. Harder than ever, and Bruce-- he suspected something. It was impossible to hide the drive from him, and the obvious need to be at their peek levels of performance without a larger reason was quite clear. But they all danced around each other. Not putting to words what was going on, Bruce instead was fine tuning what they needed to work on. Putting his advice where needed to be sure they didn't go with their 'secret plans' without preparations.

That and Jason and Tim found trackers on everything. In the most random places, and on every piece of equipment used. It got to the point the pair just let him do it. Stealing chances to talk with the showers on while one of them perched on the toilet taking notes in a small bound journal of theirs over using the computers.

Jason’s helmet was one of the prototypes Tim had been working on the side from his countless little projects from his 'idea book'. Or as Jason called it specifically, the punk even drew a silly 90's lettered logo adorned in Lisa Frank stickers on the cover like it was a diary over something as important as all his inventions to pick fun at him. They had poured over concepts of what he was going to become now that he was back from the dead and his identity had to be well hidden. Jason was very clear that he wasn't over fighting crime. So, Tim had worked on a special mold for a red helmet, equipped with a super computer that projected important information right over his sights as a hologram to give him a heightened advantage on the field as well has bulletproof protection in the metal of the helmet.

Jason loved it. And together they shifted their names to Red Robin and Red Hood in private. Bruce was surprisingly on board. Finding Jason's choice of name a way to cope with what Joker did, and with the bat symbol on his armor made it confusing to a bad guy who couldn't place where his loyalties lied. Not that Jason or Tim had been outside on patrol in their new personas yet. Robin was still fighting by Batman's side for the moment, and Bruce was determined to send them out for further training before they could work together over with him alone.

Regardless, the duo wanted to grow up a bit. Get out of being teenagers, and lose the visual of who they were by face. Tim's family had been targeted a few months back, and forced into protective services that Batman helped set up. They didn't talk about it-- but Tim had taken it too well. Jason had been concerned for a fall out, for a break to shatter the masks Tim sometimes put up. But Tim didn't miss them. He had taken the opportunity to fall off the planet just like Jason had after he graduated from school. The job offer had been a sweet gesture, and Tim sometimes picked on Jason about it being romantic-- but Tim turned down any jobs that required his face in public. There was relief in falling into the shadows. And he never realized how much he thrived in it. For once-- in maybe forever-- feeling truly like himself.

"Sir, this is the holiday season. And though none of us entirely believe in the actual Christmas day celebrations...Bruce Wayne is suppose to be at a Gala tonight to raise money for the Children's Hospital," Tim had just turned his comm on and heard Alfred loud and clear while Jason and him were trekking through an old apartment warehouse. Jason chuckled by his side, peering over towards Tim who was smirking back.

"The boys heard you," Bruce said dryly. "Stay focused on your mission, and report."

"Oh, come on. You're getting all dressed up tonight and were learning how to build and dismantle bombs. You have it easy--" Jason teased.

"Report--" Bruce didn't miss a beat, and the tone was enough to make Tim step in so Jason didn't worry their mentor.

"We're here. Found the man easy enough, and I don't think he will recognize our faces since we dumped everything out of the system on us. He doesn't seem to have much in the way of actual technology here from the scouting, old school in most of his security. We are estimating two weeks tops for us to work out if he's providing the bombs for a rumored terrorist attack in London."

"He's the best in the business-- don't let your guard down. He will most likely be working while getting paid to train you-- he's a very greedy man that will be your in," Tim had to cover Jason's mouth right before he laughed out loud when Alfred was heard in the background about the color dress shirt Bruce wanted to wear. Jason's eyes were bright in enjoyment of picking on Batman over the comm's when they were so far away. He nipped at Tim's palm much to the other's amusement.

"We'll be home before the new year," Tim said removing his hand to push Jason's face away from him playfully. "Robin and Hood out,"

"Stay safe," Bruce added before the disconnect. They knew Batman would be an easy call away, but they couldn't risk the communicators linking back to him. The small devices were just inside their ear, a small freckle appearing dot so the likely hood of them being discovered was small. But the frequency was the concern. Keeping them off would be wise while on assignment.

"Bombs, really? I can't believe it's the holidays and we are building bombs with some criminal," Tim sighed as they walked up to the door, lifting their hands up to prove they were unarmed in the camera. A man cracked the door, and then slammed it. Unhooking various locks until it opened up entirely. Tim thought the man looked quite unimpressive. Of course Tim and Jason were in button down black shirts and decent threads looking their part.  Their entire story was that they had the money to pay for whatever they wanted, and that they were some mobster sons who needed this guys specific training. The man was greedy, which proved to be the driving ease to the mission so far. They were armed with a few knives, and Jason had two guns tucked under his arms, but they were patted down and asked to put everything into a bin before their training got started.

It was on the fourth day that Jason finally worked out that something was amiss.

"Tim? You up?" Tim yawned, always a light sleeper-- he had been up the second Jason had rolled out of his bed.

"Yes, you alright?" Jason nodded quickly. Though it was another area not often spoken on, Jason had nightmares sometimes. Tim felt them. The horror of their intensity shot straight through his own soul. It came with the granted wish they assumed, which was something Jason still got extremely angry about when Tim was hurt because of himself. But Tim couldn't find to care or worry anymore on it until they spoke to Ra's about the Lazarus Pit, and with that came a few more years of training. Adulthood would do them good-- burn through revenge and desires stemmed from irrational, hormonal thinking instead of hard facts. They already had changed so much in a year. What was a few more? 

Jason shuffled over across the space between their twin beds and situated himself into Tim's. He kicked the covers over Jason's legs while the other pulled the light string on. Flooding the small safe house with warm light. Tim squinted a moment before he looked down at the notes Jason was showing him.

"What are you thinking?"  
"I think he's planing something big, working with the Russian's to make it appear orchestrated by an extremist Islamic group,"

"That's _way_ more planned than we anticipated from this oaf. Can we stop it?" 

Tim flipped through the blueprints for the latest bomb they were learning how to build. He had deconstructed all the man's work multiple times already, and had scanned his work for the Batcomputer to catalog as well. They were sticking to paper for the most part, just in case someone realized they weren't some stupid rich kids who had a daddy who could pay for anything they wanted. The fact they were a team of vigilantes about to ruin their plans on a global level would present problems if exposed too soon.

"You know this would fit into a backpack with ease, remember those lime green bags we saw them moving the other day and caught our eye? You think he was using us to fine tune the design?"

"Probably, we are dispensable in their eyes. What they don't know is that we have an anger problem and the Batman's determination to keep the innocent safe. The green color will be easy to spot too--" Tim chuckled at Jason's choice of words.

"He'd blush at that-- alright, you go interrogate him to tell us where these bombs will be. In the last training session I heard him mention a crate shipment-- based on the size of the crate I'd say there were five bombs that could fit in there without risk of setting each other off. I'll get into the city so I am closer to the expected coordinates. Comm's will be live, we can stop this..." Tim made to roll out of the bed but Jason interrupted him, putting an arm around his waist to pull him back into his bed.

"Stop it as Team Red?" Jason's smile was suddenly blinding, and Tim's heart fluttered out of beat. Leaning in, he brushed his lips to the corner of Jason's who turned to meet them full on. It was almost too lazy for what Tim really wanted. What he _always_ wanted-- but sleep burned into a lost memory to the boys who were usually up late into the nights anyway, instead Tim's entire body was vibrating in adrenaline and excitement for a mission. And entranced how Jason's eyes always fluttered closed like he was savoring a soft kiss, painting it to some kind of memory. How he tasted of cinnamon from little candies he sucked on to pass the time on recon made Tim sigh quietly when he hovered just enough to feel his breath brush up against his lips. Cooling the dampness, and letting his brain catch up.

Jason was growing way taller and bigger than Tim. His body taking on more muscle, chest widening and arms sculpting out into a thicker bulk that had honestly surprised them both as the months passed by. Jason had claimed his biological dad was a big guy-- and pulling up whatever pictures they had of the cruel man had proven the potential Jason could grow into. Tim was a little envious, but he was also extremely attracted to the height difference. His frame wasn't changing much out of his teenage years, though he was getting tall. Staying lean, muscles were tight and defined-- flexible and quick in his fighting styles. They were a perfect compliment.

"Technically we are nobody's right now," Tim breathed between them, pulling back to brush his lips to the subtle line of scruff along Jason's jaw. Feeling Jason's arms tighten in threat of entrapping him in bed when they really needed to stop a terrorist attack on London. Priorities he supposed were fluid when it came to being vigilantes.

"You are not a nobody to me," Jason tried to sound like he was teasing, but it came out rough at the end. A knowing hint to Tim that told him Jason was getting into his head when he needed him to stay focused.

"Good," Tim gripped his chin and pressed a hard kiss dramatically to his lips then shuffled over Jason's legs, and landed gracefully on the floor, pulling black work pants over his slim hips. He could feel Jason's eyes on him, and it sent a chill down his spine while he kept his back to Jason. The pair hadn't done anything more than some pretty heavy make out sessions. But Jason was determined to wait for Tim to be eighteen until they did anything more. It was maddening sometimes, the pair splitting off and showering with a grumpy scowl (mostly from Tim he admits much to his own embarrassment) But Tim also kinda liked the burn of it. How their connection through this magical link felt stronger as time passed by. This was but another layer he wanted to explore.  
  
Sometimes he could feel Jason's moods-- his anger spiking while he was fighting with a criminal would power through his own fist as if Jason was the one striking the foe over Tim. It was intense sometimes. Feeling things that weren't entirely his own, both in a physical way when Jason was injured in training, or that one time Jason had been almost struck by a bus in Gotham in a freak accident-- and broke his forearm when he tossed himself against a newspaper stand.

Broken bones were the worse of it, not that it happened often in the past year. Tim had been helping Alfred free a bat that had gotten trapped behind one of their machines when it happened. He had fell off the ladder he was balancing on when the bone snapped, luckily that aided in covering up that his arm had broke at all. The boys still hadn't told anyone about what happens to Jason-- happens to Tim. Jason was insistent he didn't want Bruce to use this as an excuse to keep them from training, or worse, for this knowledge to get into the wrong hands and used against them.

A year. And they were still very much in the dark about everything. How it worked between them. How or why it affected them as it did and the entire family had honestly put the resurrection thing on the furthest back burner because there was nothing else to look into. Bruce had said as much, no matter the file was something they could open and go back into. None of them did anymore. Both couldn't deny how good it felt to fine tune their training and grow up under the direction of Batman full time. It was making them feel powerful together, and with their bond they knew it was going to be an advantage. 

Eventually they would fly from the nest-- what a day that would be for the world.

"Why are you so pretty?" Jason's words came out in a quiet tone, once again wanting to sound teasing, but Jason had that look about him like he was really meaning it. Tim felt his ears heat up, and shot daggers over his shoulder while he tugged on a shirt.

"Ugh...shut up--" Tim smirked though, slipping on a lightweight piece of chest armor over top of the undergarment, and zipping it up his sides.

"Im going to call you prettybird instead of babybird from now on,"  
"Please don't-- the first one was bad enough,"  
"You liar, you always smile when I call you pet names. You love it,"

Tim rolled his eyes, "you have nicknames for everyone. Nice try Jay, you just like releasing that creative side of your brain no one thinks you have."

Jason didn't comment, but he leaned back on Tim's bed without further retort. Threading his fingers through his hair to brush the little tuff of white strands from his eyes. Tim continued gearing up, knowing Jason was literally watching every move. Calculating always in his visual needs. Tim knew Jason was holding back from standing and invading his space. Touch was an important piece shared between them since the pocket watch brought Jason’s soul to see Tim for five minutes at a time. Tim couldn't deny how badly he sometimes just needed the contact to allow him to forget what Jason went through then. Dying twice a day sometimes over...and over. Just to see Tim. Just to _feel_  alive even if it was magical. 

Tim slipped on a black leather jacket against his lean frame. It fit extremely well, and had pockets to hide weapons and his utility belt. The pair of them had started wearing them on their last recon mission in Russia, and it sort of stuck. Jason reached into the drawer grabbing a spare domino to hand to Tim.

"You going to torture him?" Tim asked, snapping out his bo staff to fullsize in a test before breaking it apart to tuck it against his side.

"Nah, I will set him in a trap though with his own damn bombs. That should get him talking," Jason responded, finally moving to get himself geared up.

"Ride into downtown is roughly forty minutes. Test- test," the comm responded in Jason's ear and he nodded that it was working.

"Unless you want to switch? I can--"  
"I'd much rather you not be around this slime ball anymore than we have been,"  
"Awe, worried about virtue?" Tim retorted back without waiting for a response kissed Jason's cheek and moved towards the door. Jason scowled and Tim laughed at him.

"See you in a few hours,"

The bike ride had been a pleasant one. The weather was chilly, but with all his gear on he was riding comfortable. Bruce chirped into his ear since they had the comm open after he arrived in the city.

"You both are moving already on the target?"  
"Yes, the timeframe was much shorter than we anticipated,"  
"Four days over two weeks is a big change," Bruce sounded like he was outside, and Tim pictured him gliding across the rooftops flying. He missed Gotham. And a piece of him was ready to get back home so he could be by Bruce's side up there.

"We have a solid lead, and I've already dismantled the bombs in every way possible. Even if he changes something--"  
"Hood’s comm's are off," Bruce interrupted.   
"Yeah-- he's _talking_ to the guy right now. Probably not anything we want to have in our ears," Tim was worried however that he hadn't checked in after fifty minutes had passed.

"You two split up? I told you while overseas to stay together," Batman's growled tone had Tim instinctively tensing.  
"If we broke him together, we'd never get there in time from the countryside,"

"Robin--" Jason's tone was rough sounding, Tim's knuckles were raw under his gloves, but he didn't comment on the stinging pain from what he assumed had been a decent beat down.  
  
"I've been in route-- we are looking for those backpacks as we suspected-- most likely Islamic students will be carrying them so they could set up a decent frame job. Stupid coward, using fucking students," Jason's growl had Tim bringing his bike to life, weaving between the cars to start looking for a potential target. "Sending you the locations. I will hit the East end,"

"Did you bring the freezing grenades?" Batman asked over the shared comm and Tim responded.

"Yes-- we will notify you once--"

An explosion rocked the ground, making Tim swerve to avoid a car slamming their breaks on.

"What's happening?!" Batman demanded, but Tim was staring at the fireball flickering the night sky into a heated crimson red.

"One went off-- _shit_ get to the next location. Hood out,"

"Robin! If they are going off this prematurely you have no way of knowing if the one you are traveling towards will as well!" Tim forced the speed of the bike to it's maximum potential.

"It could, but I think that one was a mistake. They are not remote accessed, they didn't have that technology incorporated into his way of building bombs. Its a timer, but if someone had jostled the bag wrong it could have sparked an early blast," Tim explained, but he knew Bruce was concerned. He didn't blame him, they hadn't anticipated being late. He had to quickly put in the back of his mind how many people died.

"Trust us, Robin out--" he clicked the comm over to Jason so if he tuned in he could be reached. The bike tires squealed in protest to the corners he was taking, noticing a potential target with the same backpack design they had saw in the compound. He drove right towards them, timing it perfectly to hook his hand around the bag and yanked the object right out of theirs without sending them into a spinning spiral against the concrete. Their protests died in the wind, Tim skid to a stop five blocks down. Yanking open the bag to see the timer.

"Hood, this timer is at twelve minutes, that other bomb was premature. We have time,"

"I've gotten to one, used a freeze grenade-- heading to the next location,"  
"Copy,"

Tim cracked open the side panel of the bomb, twisting apart the correct wires. He had a small crowd too curious for their own good. He wished he had the mental capacity to yell at them, but he pulled the bomb apart from his thigh with more ease than should have been possible for a seventeen year old. Tossing the pieces back into the bag, he slung it on his shoulders and took off to the next location.

Another explosion blasted in the distance, Tim snarled in frustrations. But then he felt an electric bolt of pain. Blood slipped down his thigh as a river, a puncture wound taking away his pressure against the petal of the bike enough to make him shift his weight forward to better keep it up.

"Shit! Tim you okay?!" Jason's voice frantically came through the channel. Tim had to release a sharp breath to avoid an outcry to the heated sensation sending shocks of pain down his thigh.

"No names Hood, and I'll be fine-- what happened?" Tim demanded, Jason sounded winded.

"Had to toss it over a bridge into the river, but it caught the damn edge. Blasted the metal against me and a few cops. I took a hit to my thigh-- are you driving?"

"Yes-- one more bomb. I'm nearly there,"

"Ok-- I think these cops want to arrest me. Shit-- yep, okay--" Jason's comm cut off with the sound of him punching a cop most likely. Leave it to Jay to beat up cops trying to do their job. But they really couldn't afford being arrested, Tim just needed to stay concentrated. Though a numbness took over his leg the longer it was bleeding. He ignored the unfortunate distraction-- he caught sights of a group of collage students running for shelter. His mask read through the crowds, and caught the bag sitting on a bench most likely forgotten from the other two bombs rocking London. People were scared. 

He took to a limping run. The military or a government agency was probably going to be onsite soon, and they desperately needed to get out of the country before they pinned them to the attack over who actually planned it. They needed time to build their case anyway, and then present it to the right people. Right now though-- Tim's hands slipped on the wires, pulling open the side to count the correct ones. Snipping the black and the yellow one, people were screaming around him. They must have saw the bomb because this crowd were actually running from it. This bomb was different. Something tweeked. Tim picked up on the fingerprints left against the wires, mapping out what had been changed based on that signature. 

"Heading your way. Lost the cops-- get the last one?" Tim worried his lip, holding two red wires.

"Hood there are two red wires on this one,"  
"Just freeze it--"  
"But it has fingerprints-- I don't want to ruin the evidence,"  
"Fuck the evidence! I don't want this shit to blow you up!"

Tim winced. Jason's breathing was sharp through the mic, and Tim could feel the anxiety Jason was feeling crowd around his chest like he was having a mild heart attack. Tim understood the concern. He knew this was a strong trigger for Jason, but he had this.

"You have to calm down for me babe-- I won't blow up," Tim spoke calmly and cut a fine line into the rubber of the wire, exposing just enough to see where it was tied together in a trap to trigger a second release. He followed it, mapping the fitting attached to the timer-- and pulled it out. The bomb shut down. Tim disconnected the C4 carefully, setting it down in the grasses so the military or police could find it and dispose of it properly.

"It's good, are reports coming in on the other two that went off?"  
"No confirmed deaths yet, but they will come in," Jason wasn't okay, and Tim could taste it through their connection. He put the bomb pieces into the backpack, and limped over towards the bike.

"Safe house two, be there in ten,"

The apartment was a piece of shit basement dwelling that offered one light, and one small window. They had rented the place with cash and the guy above had said he'd leave them too whatever it was they were doing in secret. Money always helped. Thank you Bruce. Tim hid the bike in the backyard, pulling open the basement door only to be met with Jason tugging him roughly inside. His shoulder hit the door jam, the slamming wood and creak of old glass making him wince.

"Hey! Don't pull me around--" Tim snapped, yanking his arm away and made his way to a wooden chair near a table filled with weapons. If the police found them now it would be hard to deny they weren't the terrorists with all the bomb making supplies matching the guy who actually built them. Tim needed to tap into the batcomputer and work out this case immediately while London dealt with the fires and hot sites.

"Sorry--" Jason broke his thoughts, and wrapped his arms around Tim to bury his face into the crux of his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Tim could feel the subtle shake to his shoulders. The pulsing worry twisted tightly between them. Tim settled on the embrace.

"I know," Tim laid his head against Jason's, threading his gloved fingers through his thick hair and rubbed the base of his neck. "We gotta look at this thing on my leg Jay-- feel like getting me out of my clothes?" 

He tested to joke, because that's what they always did. Jason tensed only for a moment, before his shoulders relaxed a hair, and pulled back enough to kiss him deeply. Their teeth clashed from how desperate it was at first. Jason turned his head to part them better, to make Tim breathless with a strong sweep of his tongue dragging Tim forward to not let them part. He was forced against the edge of the table and hulled up on it without helping at all. Jason settled forward between his legs. Clinging to him, both his large hands cradling his face to kiss his cheeks, eyelashes, and lips again. Tim smiled drugged at the feeling, Jason only stopping to look at him. Seeing his guilt immediately.

"I hurt you again--" Jason said against his mouth, brushing his lips as if to steal the confirmation Tim was going to deny him. Tim shrugged. Reaching down to unzip his jacket, and depose of it on the table.

"We will always get hurt," Tim nipped at Jason's chin, earning him more attention from the other. Jason’s hands slipped around his waist, nuzzling into his neck to suck a mark right by his ear. Tim’s heart rate jumped at the contact.

"I wish you saw the danger in this," Jason growled annoyed. 

"I do, I knew it the second I awoke with a fever in your bed and watched as your wounds healed up in a matter of days. I endured your resurrection-- gave you whatever strength you needed to not die on us the moment we finally had you back. If you think a little wound on my leg is going to make me blame you? You are a knucklehead,"

Jason's brows furrowed as if he wanted to yell at him, but instead unhooked Tim's button to his pants, and helped him pull the fabric off his legs where the blood had seeped and dried to make Tim yelp from the wound being reopened. He closed his eyes to the sensation, demanding to not lose consciousness when it bubbled up in blood and seeped down his thigh. It was bad-- and he probably needed a hospital, but it would have to wait until they were out of London.

"Meanwhile I bleed-- you bleed. I heal, you suffer. I fucking hate it," Jason growled angry again, and Tim sighed deeply to keep from getting dizzy.

"We can't stay here. We need to pack and get out of town right now," Tim's breathing was uneven, the night catching up to him as the adrenaline was dissipating. Jason leaned up and kissed him again, pressing his tongue along his own, threading bloody fingers through his hair and angling them to he could make Tim's heart rate increase again.

"Distracting you--" Jason grinned boyishly, pulling back to grab the medic kit. Tim could have bit him-- but the increased blood flow to his brain had him not feeling like he was going to pass out. He reached back and tugged over the metal container for their weapons, situating his leg up so Jason could work on it while he packed up what was near by.

"Always multitasking,"

"You know stopping is dangerous for us," Tim chuckled, having been kissed only to keep his brain moving was a mean trick if he was honest-- but an effective one. Jason lifted his leg to dump antiseptic over it. Tim winced and released a yelp at the coolness and sting of it being cleaned. Jason quickly stuffed the wound with gauze so he could wrap it firmly up. Tim felt mildly exposed with his pants around his ankles while he was leaning back to pack what he could reach. But though they were wounded, having stopped a larger scale attack on London (even though bitterly they couldn’t stop one of the bombs) Tim’s mind couldn’t help but linger to other inappropriate things. 

When Jason was done there was a moment when he was surrounded, Tim surprised when he felt hands scooping under his hamstrings to pull him off the table and closer into Jason's chest.

"You're so pretty though--" Jason humored to continue his teasing from before. Tim hummed in approval, feeling Jason’s large hands pull up his pants and re-button the top. 

“Only to you,” Tim admitted in his ever self depreciating way, pulling back and around so he could continue packing the table away. 

“Bats is that helicopter in route?” Jason clicked into the comm, grabbing their mostly packed clothing bags and whatever else important or linking them to anything bomb related. 

“It will be at the pick up in five minutes,” Bruce chimed in. “Are you both okay?”

“Robin took damage to his leg, but he’s walking alright. Field dressed it,”

“If you can manage it without a hospital, there is a plane already at the airport. Bring all you can for the case-- just get home.”

Jason peered up at Tim who felt cold from the blood loss, but a different warmth filled him at Batman’s concern for them. It was nice-- that he trusted them on this at all. 

“See you in a few hours _dad_ \--” Jason teased.


	9. Love Can't be Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the delay these (horrible) elections and Halloween took up all my time. Be careful with this chapter!! It gets a bit graphic towards the end.

Sometimes the Manor was just quiet enough for Tim that he wanted to explore. Creeks from the ancient foundations moaned in soft melody's when the weather got too cold. The paintings all appeared to stare at him when he walked down familiar halls. He had always assumed his parents would eventually demand to know why he was spending so much time away. And what would he have admitted? That he was Robin now. He had been a teenager running into a strangers arms and they never ever realized it. Maybe he'd laugh and say Bruce Wayne is the one who took him in-- of course of all people he would have been the very last person anyone in Tim's life would have expected to bat an eye lash at. Maybe that was why it worked in the end. Now that his parents were far away-- and secretly Tim knew exactly where but he'd not see them again. Instead, he had this old house. He had a mentor who he looked up too, and trained him better than anyone else could hope to get through the brilliant and quite stubborn mind of Timothy Drake.

But more than anything. This Manor, and those in it had become a family Tim never thought he'd experience. It was easy to get into his head, and dream up what that distant fantasy of family was suppose to be. Maybe it was too many sleepless nights like this but with him sneaking out of his house to snap photos of Robin. His parents never noticed-- not once did he climb through the window and get scolded at. Bruce early last year would have probably worried about him going missing, or not showing up for a training and this was before Jason came back. Tim felt old doubts want to surface while his mind toyed him in those dark parts of his past.

To be living in a home that felt like family was overwhelming. Which was why he was walking around, far too early for anyone to be up, and too late in the night for someone to stumble on his pacing.

This particular camera in his hands was nostalgic. Funny to only be seventeen and think a few years could create that emotion. But it was there, heavy against his heart in a weight of raw happiness. He snapped a few photos from dramatic angles down the hallway, capturing the dust caught in the low horizon moonlight. The grandfather clock that was a door to the basement received a few portraits. Tim moving a few things about the library to better photograph the entire room. Capturing it's grander but more importantly mapping every single place in the manor that made him feel at home. Everything he's ever touched, or lounged on while reading up on chemistry got a photo.

The kitchen earned a point of view shot opening the large fridge exposing sticky notes filled with perfect cursive, and bold red inks of all of them laying dramatic claim to certain foods. Reminders of 'hey this is mine!' and 'only eat two each' from Alfred. Jason even put a few hearts on a few much to Tim's amusement-- he laughed out loud. Shaking his head to cause longer strands to kiss his cheeks, and feel the rush of red meet them with laughing alone. Tim cracked the container open revealing peanut butter rolled granola treats and popped one in his mouth, savoring the textures and melting chocolate and peanut butter before putting on some tea.

Photo after photo had fell out the front of the Polaroid. Spread out on the top of the counter in a haphazard design. When morning finally arrived and Bruce was unsurprisingly the first one up he made his way into the kitchen only to pause in the doorway. How did anyone experience the presence of Bruce Wayne without feeling overwhelmed? Tim thought he appeared tired still, probably only taking the four hours he allowed and yet he was dressed in an impeccable suit. Hair damp from a shower, and an amused smile on his face. Tim sipped his tea, cracking open the pocket watch to reveal the six am time. Not having hid what he had been up too for the last two hours, Bruce walked towards the counter and started picking up a few random ones. They didn't say anything about them. The two detectives could understand what Tim at been photographing without asking.

Tim in the beginning with his relationship with Bruce and Batman had been strained-- for lack of a better word. Bruce didn't often sit with him because Tim was scurrying back home before anyone noticed. All the training he went through revolved around what he could be good at in the way of science and hacking or when he finally convinced Batman to teach him some martial arts. It was different now. He knew it would be-- and victory always made Tim feel lightheaded when he thought about his role in it.

Having been away for the better part of a few months made Tim realize how much he loved it here. How, the strange life they lived didn't hinder on their relationships as much as it should or once did. Bruce had settled with a tea in hand, and a tablet open to various newspaper articles. The silence was extremely comfortable, the space impregnated in a warmth unseen but felt around his chest, and swelled his heart with a longing of companionship Tim had been reluctant to admit he had wanted forever-- with greater fear of it bring ripped away. Alfred came in soon after with a proper morning, and a bursted wave of tears at the photos as he poured over them. Tim chuckle into his cup, munching on a small piece of banana bread while each one was looked over and commented on.

Bruce and him met one another's eye three times in that moment. Each one sending a lightening shock down his spine. Home felt so good. Love, friendship, family. Tim wanted to drown in all he was feeling, savoring every minute detail he could capture with just his eyes before he lifted the camera and snapped a photo of Alfred showing Bruce a picture. His heart was hammering, choking off words to explain himself. Instead they fell on a sleepy Jason in the background who padded in with his arms above his head. Showing off various bandages mirrored against Tim's own abdomen. The secret suddenly turned his happiness to ash on his tongue, realizing how lies were always the achilles heel of any family.

"Morning," Jason grumbled, jarring Tim from letting it ruin his moon. Tim was surprised he was up if he was honest. Not that Tim had slept at all. There was something about breakfast that brought them to the table. Tim watched Bruce when Jason's voice broke the silence of the kitchen. How his eyes caught a certain happiness Tim never saw directed his way. Jealousy didn't exist as one might think. Maybe Tim has grown up more than he admitted to himself, or it was the detective in him that knew that some people would always carry staggeringly important weight than others. Jason had been everything to Bruce. Tim got that loud and clear over two years ago-- its why he fixed it.

Tim wondered how Dick was doing suddenly, and Barbara. A small part of him wished they were here too.

"You didn't sleep," Jason was suddenly in his space, all wide angles, taller heights, and rough hands gripping the sides of his cheeks gently to press a soft kiss to his lips. His mind disappeared in those milliseconds. Long after Jason moved past him to grab a coffee.

"Tim?" Bruce's words came through, his crystalline gaze removing its focus from a vase in the distance of the room and instead moved to his with a hum of answer. Bruce didn't appear concerned on the front, but Tim could feel it's threads wrapping around his wrists as if to urge him sharply forward in demand to explain what he was thinking about.

"I'm fine," he smiled a drugged sort of smile. Hiding his lips behind the cup to take a finishing sip of now cold tea. He always did this-- hiding behind drinks and food. It was a bad habit, but one he wasn't set on breaking when it usually worked.

"You didn't sleep?" Bruce inquired beyond Jason's knowing words.  
"Ill nap this afternoon," Tim promised.

The day went on like this. Hours ticked by with training in the batcave. A new project that required them to build a robot with Alfred that could help clean the hardest parts of the manor by clicking a button. Tim had notes laid out on the chemistry mark ups on four different poisons they were dealing with on multiple cases, and yet through all the grueling work that warmth never left him. Fondness had him pausing countless times through out the day when Alfred pat his shoulder in approval, or when Bruce got back from his meetings and greeted him with an arm around his waist to pull him into a strong, surprising hug when Tim told him he had managed to replace the machine gun in the batmobile with an upgrade of rockets. And Jason. Well he had been physically training all day. Punching various bags, meditating, and going through the simulations in the cave for hours. Tim felt his exhaustion, but it was Jason's determination that made Tim so productive. It was a double edged sword of sharing everything.

"You are really happy today," Jason said immediately coming out of the simulation room covered in what appeared to be black goo. The dark splash across his face made his eyes vibrant. Tim fell lost to them for only a heartbeat before he shook his head, and slid back under the car.

"I never knew how it could feel,"  
"What?"  
"Our life-- this house. You. Bruce and Alfred. Just it all I guess...it just settled today that I have all of you,"

"You are feeling okay right?" Jason teased, and Tim huffed around the sound of a wrench grinding against the metal underbelly in answer.

"Don't distract me while I am working under this thing," Tim responded instead, but he could sense Jason' admiration and Tim didn't know what to do with that. Jason gripped his ankle and slid him out.

"You are on patrol tonight,"  
"Yes and?"  
"I want to come with you,"

Tim ran his thumb across his bottom lip, eyes darting over to the new gear he was designing with Bruce for Jason from the floor.

"If were going to go about this the right way-- we shouldn't be seen together in those," Tim sighed, he wished Jason and him could run about Gotham together. But with Black Mask becoming a growing problem they knew it would blow a good chance at taking him down a notch so long as Jason's identity stayed hidden.

"I was thinking how we did it in London," Jason suggested, wiping the sludge off his face and arms. Tim could make it work, though it was dangerous. Their suits contained enough armor in them to keep them relatively safe from most knives, and certain bullets if they should land a hit. Gotham was a violent beast. And every night was a fight that could end in death. Safety was always the highest priority.

"Bruce won't approve that,"  
"We can just recon tonight,"

Jason was feeling coped up now that they were back home and not abroad. Tim understood greatly, but in equal parts his logical brain was having a difficult time agreeing. The whole point of them spending the last year all over the world was to train in preparations of this case. Weeks spent with horrible people-- terrorists and crime lords all unknowingly taking money from Jason and Tim to show them how they do business.

"The Black Mask case is going to be the most difficult one. And we still haven't talked about the Pit in awhile..." Tim paused, moving towards Jason who was still cleaning himself up. He leaned against the table, folding his arms protectively across his chest. "We haven't told Bruce about our connection yet either."

"I know--" Jason grumbled, slipping his armor off one piece at a time so he could clean it properly.

"We will need to tell him tonight after patrol or before, your decision," Tim responded, not wanting to put Jason in a tough spot but the weigh of his happiness suddenly made this secret not something to keep any longer. "We are all doing well for once, you know-- something is bound to happen soon if probability has a say in in. We shouldn't let him find out through a bad situation."

Jason nodded, shaking his hips to pull the combat armor pants off his legs. The floor splashed in black goo and Tim took a step away with a quiet lift of his nose to the smell. Jason was literally stripping completely down in the middle of the cave, and that reality settled enough to freeze him a few steps away. Watching Jason's frustrated huff's in annoyance to the state of his body stretch the muscles along his back. When had he gotten so big? It's only been a year, but Jason seemed to keep putting on weigh. Every inch grown made his angles sharper across his back shoulders, and rise up in tempting contours around his neck. The little white tuff of hair was near black now from the mess he was suffering with, but ever still Jason seemed an adult now. Not holding as many childish lines to his face, sharper cheekbones while his training carved him beautifully like a chiseled piece of marble.

Tim's ears were alight in fire, but he couldn't peel his eyes away. Perving out on Jason who was cursing under his tongue while every piece of clothing plopped to the floor in a pile of black sludge, he was balancing on one foot while his boots shoelaces had managed to knot up on him trapping his pants around his calves while he tried to toe it off.

He remembered his first crush suddenly. It seemed so long ago-- well before Dick Grayson when the Robins had lit up his world. When Tim thought about him-- even years later, he was thankful to recognized it when it happened. The smile that had caught his eye from across the warehouse. It was his first party with friends. Picked up by his best friend with promises of a good time because ‘how could you not have fun dancing in a warehouse all night?!’ were her exact words. So he had went along. He was the shy observing friend, she was the outgoing, loud one. They balanced each other though and were loyal to one another-- back when he had friends because of school. Back when innocence was easy to consume and make you not realize the privilege you lived in.

He had found a drink and wandered up a staircase to a hidden loft area that overlooked the lower part of the dancing. Lanterns and Christmas lights the only source of light for anyone to see. The music was an upbeat song Tim hadn't been familiar with-- but he remembered how he took that moment to simply breathe and relax. Everyone was dancing, smiling, and having a good time. And before he could stop it Tim had felt a smile creep up on his face as he watched with a sort of fascination that everyone could enjoy themselves without violence-- or fear.

"Tim?" Jason is staring up at him, his position having sat on the floor to remove his boots. The expanse of tan skin, and crunch of muscles of Jason's lower abdomen get Tim's attention for enough time to realize he had dazed off. "What are you thinking about?"

"The night I realized I liked guys and girls--" Tim admitted without any reluctance. The rest of the night had been loud, and fun. But Tim, he had remained on his perch with the camera he had used early to snap a few photos without people knowing. When the music had changed to a slower song someone caught his attention and for the entirely of the song Tim had watched. He was tall, older Tim had thought-- most likely in high school. They must have sensed his eyes on them because he glanced up and-- Tim jolted. The connection was for the briefest moment, but then he smiled and it crinkled the lines around his eyes enough Tim had to look away before he openly smiled back.

"Care to share this story?" Jason interrupted, bare except a pair of black briefs. Tim chewed the bottom of his lip, and shook his head no. Jason chuckled walking towards the showers so he could hose down, showing off his thighs with a strut that got Tim's full attentions.

Attraction at this level had never felt like this before. And Tim remembered how terribly confused and excited at the same time he had been back then. When he had shared his first kiss with a guy, or realized that having a girlfriend was equally thrilling. But the fact it was creeping back on him now was alarming-- because all of this was because he loved Jason Todd. He loved Bruce, and he loved Alfred. He loved being Robin-- Love. That was what he had always been missing in his life, and now that he had it Tim knew only one thing.

No one would take this from him.

A sharp stinging pain ignited his hand, and the mirage of his cherished memories faded like shadows being met with the sun.

"Boss he won't break. He slips away to some mental place so he doesn't feel any of the pain. He won't acknowledge anything I am dishing at him! Someone taught him well--"

"And the other one?"  
"He not conscious, went to far maybe Boss give him time to come back around or bring us some drugs to jump start him,"  
"Rich fucking kids and trained in torture?!-- arg! Why aren't they in the system?! WHO ARE THESE TWO?!"

A crash of metal filled the space outside the door followed by a gun going off. A body collided to the ground out of sights bringing Tim's focus out of the place he had sent himself while they worked him over. Tim realigned his breathing best he could. Feeling the sharp burn of something solid embedded into his palm that wasn't there as he tried not to come back only to slip into shock. Shit. They must have really hurt Jason...

"Tim?" The whisper shocked him, and he lifted a swollen eye towards the corner where Jason's hand was nailed to the table.

"Jay--" he wheezed, licking his parched lips. Trying to remember what happened.

"Don't come back babybird, go back to that place in your head. Batman is coming alright? He's coming, I got the beacon off-- these terrorist scum won't make it. Dick might be here sooner, he's near by," Jason looked exhausted, but Tim couldn't sit here any longer. He tested the knot on his wrists.

"Tim please,"  
"What?"  
"If they know you are up and I'm faking unconsciousness they will torture you. Please-- what were you thinking about. Where did you go?"

Tim swallowed, the state of Jason's body was having a stronger effect on Tim. They people didn't realize it-- of course not. The watch though. Tim's eyes widened, glancing down at his pants to not see the object in his bloodstained pocket.

"Jason, they have the watch,"  
"Is that bad?"  
"We still don't know how it works-- what if they make a wish on it...accidently and everything is ruined?"

Jason tested his own restrains, but the large nail through his hand was proving to be the best way to keep him still when Tim half cried out at the wound opening up on his hand. Jason growled,

"Tim please, just go back to that place. I know Batman showed you how-- Ill bring you back out of it, please babe-- they are coming back in."  
"I am not a child Jason, and it was the Manor... not just any place."  
"They might realize--"

His words are cut off with the door opening with a creek of metal. The bomb maker came in with a snarl of frustration next to another man who marched right over to Tim and gripped under his chin to bring his focused eyes on him.

"He's here..." came a meaty, threatening tone front he crime boss. "Who are you? Who trained you?" He was demanded, but Tim smiled a bloody, toothy smile that was smack sharply with a gloved hand. His iris' dilated, walking down the hallway filled with pictures-- imagining the weight of the camera. To slip back into the manor and stay there until they were rescued.

"NO YOU DON'T!" a needle pricked his neck, and Tim's heart fell off kilter as a gasp tore out of his chest. He seized up in a full muscle spasm, back arching against the chair. He screamed in agony while all pain raced to a delirious clarity. Jason had taken that opportunity to tear the nail from his hand, thrashing so angrily it took three other men to hold him back. Tim felt the cool metal of a gun tuck under his chin. His body shook at the shot of adrenaline and whatever else flowing through his veins.

"What did you give him?!" Jason screamed back, but Tim's focus was on the man an inch from his own. All the wounds on his body gnawing away at his reserves. Everything ignited in the worse ways, and shock came as a chatter of teeth--

"Just answer the questions, or you won't sleep again,"

"It's me, I trained us-- there is no one else!" Jason thrashed again earning a sharp collided gun to blacken Tim's vision momentarily as Jason was dropped to the ground in a daze. Blood coated over Tim's forehead and down his cheek in mock of a tear from the impact. The man cocked his head to watch the wound open magically.

"What is this--" he pressed his thumb into it, Tim's racing senses making him tremble.

"Break his finger," the man ordered. The sharp snap of bone was instant, and Tim screamed again as his finger's bound behind his back broke in two. Jason's own scream was feral, the guys having to pin him to the ground or risk Jason breaking their bones.

"Interesting," came a hum of approval. Tim's body felt suspended in limbo, wanting to pass out but unable to. Instead he was trapped in feeling everything without ability to move.

"Who ordered you to mess up the attack here?" He was asked, the gun dragged under his chin, pressing warningly against his cheek to smear the line of blood there. Tim's lips closed tight. Trying to slip away again, no matter his heart was racing like he was in an actual race, and his mind was calculating a thousand different ways to escape. But each though came with no answers, nothing concrete. It was maddening.

"You...will see--" Tim smiled again, the gun cracking against his face knocking him into blessed darkness.


	10. The Demon has Found Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: torture, gun violence, blood -- please be safe folks

There wasn't any real way to train someone to be tortured without actually being-- tortured. There was advice, the science, biological, and psychological side of it broken down in a way Tim understood fairly well. But all the studying in the world and all the training to keep his emotions in check, to shroud and hide the pain and keep his tongue quiet in practice couldn't compare to actually enduring it. It had been foolish for them to not further check with the owner of the house they were renting from. One second cousin. That one small connecting factor had a girl friend who was working with the Russians who realized it was them bunking in the basement. It took one phone call for them to be caught off guard-- fighting their way out had seemed to work in their favor until they got Jason with a taser strong enough in voltage it knocked them both out. Tim knew they needed time right now. That was the only thing on their side-- it was ever the only thing on their fucking side anymore.

Jason reassured he got the beacon off and that Nightwing was closer-- which also meant Bruce had asked him to be over seas just in case they needed backup. Tim would grumble about that little piece of information later. Blood tasted stale and rotting on his tongue and lips, the smear of it over his cheek dried and crusty in places even cracked. It was difficult to breathe from the belted restraint around his middle paired with his damp skin blossomed in goosebumps and discoloration of bruises. The wounds were taking a deeper effect on his body, marred with the pain alone and the injections to keep him mostly awake had his body feeling in limbo of life and death. They were roughing up Jason right now in another attempt to get them to talk more about who they were-- but Tim's mind was else where working on the case so they could earn some leverage to this situation before Batman exploded the door and punched them all.

"Why the lime green bags?" he asked, teasing his voice to a soft tone to further play up his current state. The guy pacing by the door walked over to him, pressing the tip of the gun right against his heart. The cold bite of the metal to bare skin jolted the muscles in learned reactions, but Tim didn't lift his head from the floor to look at him. Dark hair clung to his forehead-- the crystalline of his eyes not dilated and more focused than they realized. 

"Shut up-- you don't get to ask questions," he was warned,

"Someone was watching those bags? Or they needed to be easily seen so they knew where they were headed and could better determine where the blast would be or to be stopped..." Tim worked through, the man's knuckles tightened on the gun so hard his ring finger popped through its tension. So he was right. Tim smiled. "Which means you can't kill us until you get those orders from who ever is pulling your strings. I didn't realize it before, but you all are scared. Did you think failing this attack would end well?"

"Be quiet or I will shoot you," his finger flipped off the safety and cocked the hammer back into position with his thumb. It was surreal, to feel the circle of the gun nozzle imprint into soft skin-- to hover right over the hammering organ that couldn't survive being torn through so violently. Victory was sweet to Tim's ego regardless of the danger. So there was someone else-- but who? All their recon had lead to believe it was the Russians. It was interesting now, to think they were attempting to make another group appear the terrorists when in fact they were the ones being set up the entire time. They realized that didn't they? Maybe that was where all the anger was coming from-- not in the two ruining their attack but in what was the unknown to their real boss. Tim lifted his head up-- it lulled heavily back to reveal his precious smile. 

"I can stop this person-- who ever it is," fingers wrapped around his throat, nails and grip aimed to actually rip it open over strangulation. The gun still against his chest pushed harder making Tim's heart pound in response. The man was thinking though. No words or threat spilled out immediately in retort giving Tim the opportunity to really see how scared they were. Who ever this was would most likely kill them all because of this failure, which was why they were keeping them alive. A trade to hopefully spare themselves. It was a sound plan-- except rational ideas usually didn't work with the troubled. Tim winced when Jason took a difficult blow to his jaw yanking the man from his concerns and focused on Tim instead. 

"How does that work?" he was asked,

"Magic," Tim's breath hitched subtly in a show of weakness he couldn't avoid. Exhaustion evident as much as the fever making his body shiver slightly under the man's forward weight. 

The man's brow wrinkled, picking up that Tim wasn't actually lying. 

"How did it happen? Why does it only work on you?" 

"Because we share a life force," the man looked over at Jason who was being held against the wall by four guys. His state was worrisome to look upon, but Tim wasn't concerned overall. All the wounds on his body would heal over slowly and really-- those guys would have to do much better than beat up Jason to bring him down. He was a bear of a soul in disguise-- a man who crawled out of a grave because of love-- someone who already knew what it felt like to die without a say in it. Tim could feel Jason's gaze on him, knowing he was trying to work out Tim's plan without ruining it. 

"I could cast the spell on this man coming for you. The one you failed--" Tim's eyes fluttered closed when the man's grip tightened around his neck. Instinctively he tugged on the restraints, back arching to pull away but the man slipped each finger around the tendons over previously indenting. Lifting up under his jaw and squeezing just enough to be a warning.

"You are playing me,"

Another man came in a whispered into the other's ear. Tim heard it though-- a Russian base had been broken into. All their men slaughtered by swords and information stolen that shouldn't have been able to be. Pieces clicked together so quickly in Tim's mind he knew it showed on his face. They had  _all_ been played. 

"Get me the pocket watch you took from my pants-- I'll do it for you," he choked out to bring their attentions back on him-- attempting to hide his surprise and irritation to this little piece of evidence. 

"Don't!" Jason seemed to have picked up his plan in that instant, playing the part so perfectly it surprisingly jarred Tim more than he intended it too. The man looked confused at Jason's outburst, peering over at the other who was shaking and appearing beyond angry. Tim was entranced only a second, eyes holding mirth and excitement to their little game.

"Why not? What will happen?" the man asked focusing back on Tim. 

"He will die of course," Tim stated calmly, those bruising fingers slipped down the contour of his neck so Tim could better speak. The other men in the room were watching the exchange with interest, the ruse working so well he might have to stall more on the tail end of it if Nightwing and Batman didn't get here in time. 

"You would kill your partner--" he was asked with a crooked, challenging expression. Tim allowed one of his masks to slip on with gentle ease, eyes distant and expression one lacking any love he harbored for Jason who was looking at him so intently. Trusting him right now in the throw of a bad situation. 

"If you let me go I will cast it, transfer the spell to the target. When you kill my partner-- you will kill him too," it was a theory actually. One Tim had been mulling over for the last year that could possibly be truth-- not that they could know until one of them died. The man seemed convinced even though he was quiet, the other men left Jason to grab their boss and the group were talking in hushed whispers by the door. Tim was still looking at Jason who he knew had realized Tim had woven truth in the lies to make it seem all truth. The expression on his face proved he was frustrated with Tim-- but really what did he expect from him? Tim never stopped working, never stopped experimenting and attempting to solve a mystery that involved them couldn't entirely be placed on the back burner. He smiled. A boyish grin that had Jason's eyes darken in many different ways, and trailed down his face. To the men it seemed like Tim was gloating-- but Jason knew he was saying more. 

One of the other men turned and left the room in what Tim was guessing was to retrieve the locket. He had to get it back before the fight which if his calculations on time were correct would be soon. The restraints on his wrists were being undone first, then the large mesh belt around his center binding his ankles to his chest. The release of tension from his joints was instantly relieving, Tim sighed in thankfulness-- playing up that he was relishing it because he was about to betray his partner. The gun was once more pointed at his back-- still over his heart as he was forced more up in the chair and leaned forward against a metal table. The watch was brought in and slid harshly across the table-- landing right in his hands. He sighed in relief. Clicking open the edge with his nail-- consciously aware that his pointer finger was black and blue and would probably need to be re-broken to be set again. The ticking sound of the watch brought Tim more comfort than he'd ever admit-- noting the time. 

"Would you look at that though? It's nearly lunchtime--" his eyes darted up, both of them calculating the time they stopped the bombs and when the beacon went off. Nightwing was here already, they knew it even though the other hadn't made a sound. 

"Explains why you are making stupid decisions-- you always make them when you are hungry," Jason retorted harshly, even snarling against the restraints like some wild animal. It sent a thrill down Tim's spine to see him that way.

"If I had known you looked so good chained to a wall, I'd have experimented with that before this entire escapade," Jason's eyes darkened to the taunt, and Tim allowed a bright smile to play up his victory in all the right ways.

The gun weight to his back was reminded with a nudge, so he relaxed his shoulders. Barely shifting his weight so it seemed the angle would hit his heart but would instead most likely shatter his collarbone instead. That wouldn't be pleasant-- but he'd probably survive in case the trigger happy man pulled it before Nightwing could knock it away. It all happened quickly. A small ball rolled into the room. Jason and Tim closed their eyes and took a practiced inhale right when the device blew up the room in smoke. The gun went off as expected, but Tim swept his hands backwards, gripping the wrist of the man towering behind him and flipped him right onto the table with a shift of his weight. It pulled something along his back sharply, and the blinding pain in the center of his body made him yelp in a staggered jolt of pain. The world blurred, focusing on the target who was trying to lift his gun back at him. Tim struck the pulse point at the side of his neck making the man pass out instantly. Many guns went off while the other men were fighting what couldn't actually be seen. Tim retched the gun from the slack palm, sliding to the ground to keep out of the immediate crossfire. Exhaustion reared it's head forward then-- Tim waiting with a distant stare. Watching the fog dissipate leaving the larger than life presence of a happy, smiling Nightwing looking to pick on Jay still chained to the wall. Tim chuckled before one joke came out bringing both their attentions to him.

"Tim!" Dick cut the metal chains, Jason nearly colliding his knees to the floor if Dick hadn't hooked a strong arm under his armpits. They moved over to him, Jason pressing his hand into the gun shot on his chest bringing forth the dizzying pain it was already hindering upon him. 

"I'll live--" he sighed, "I know who did all this." 

"I don't really give a fuck about this case you idiot," Jason grumbled, Dick lifted up to speak to Bruce on the comms but Tim couldn't focus on them both. 

"It's Ra's," Tim whispered, Jason's pupils dilated.

"You sure?" 

"Yes, he was luring us out. He knew we would stop it," Tim leaned forward, resting his head against Jason's shoulders who wrapped his arms around his middle to keep him close. "He took something in Russia-- those men were killed with swords. It was a distraction..."

"Okay, okay-- I still don't care right this moment," Jason huffed out, "what did they give you? How are you possibly still awake." 

"Probably for the better," Tim said just as Nightwing walked over with a concerned frown at their state, "Batman is nearly here, he might have broken the sound barrier to travel the ocean so quickly. We need to move, Jason can you walk?" He nodded in response Dick quickly releasing a tablet from his pockets to place against the bullet wound on Tim's chest. It fizzed and bubbled, sealing it closed temporarily-- Tim released a sharp exhale to the sensation both of them hooking arms under Tim's to sandwich him between them. 

"What did you two get into?" Nightwing joked as they left the compound. Jason shook his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will finished this story! Don't fret (sorry for the short chapter just wanted to give you all something while the holidays wind down!) I am also working on how I want to end it so I can lead up to it with decent closure to my plot idea. If there is anything you wish to have please let me know in the comments! I wasn't planning on a smut scene but ya know if you want one Ill work that in too LOL cheers-- cas


	11. Love Distractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluffy love things : ) and some smut but Im not overly graphic when I wrote it.

Tim hated laying still for so long. Back in bed with more pillows than was deemed necessary piled up behind him while his fingers clicked away on a keyboard. Wires draped over the luxurious comforter spread out all along the floor to keep the four laptops he was currently working on from dying on him. It was a mess that has marked the room for many weeks now.

Jason was spread out along the very center of the bed. His feet cradled in wonder woman slippers and a kicking back and forth to a beat Tim couldn't hear because of the sound deafening headphones he had latched over his ears. Tim paused to glance up at Jason's profile, glowing blue from one of the computers while he too was working on closing up all their case loads and setting their planning onto a much-biggered piece.

Frustration bit at his cheeks like a rabid dog, twitching the muscles until a deep set frown carved lines down his youthful cheeks. Jason had to know he was looking at him even without having the ability to hear-- and Tim grew angrier by the second; listening to the tick-tock of the grandfather clock in their room swing back and forth in mockery. Fingers clenched together, pausing their insistent clicking to keyboards.

"You are going to set the bed on fire with your mood swings," Jason's tired draw slipped softly through the space, igniting Tim with a further scowl.

"I don't understand anything--" Tim growled out, shoving the computer childishly from his lap until it slipped under one of his many pillows. He threaded a hand through his mess of hair along the front, bangs dirty and in need of a shower. Jason pulled the headsets off, rolling from his stomach onto his side. Tim lowered his eyes to the blanket tucked up around his hips, bandages were wrapped expertly around his chest to force him to keep good posture, so he didn't refracture anything. His broken finger remained tapped up and black and blue, but Tim was still using it to type much to everyone's annoyance.

Jason was all right, though. Not a scratch on him, not even fatigue.

"Tim--" a cloth pressed against his face, and he realized his nose was bleeding without any warning or consent. Jason slipped forward to sit carefully on his thighs to avoid the stitches, holding the handkerchief to his left nostril. Tim froze at the contact, hopelessness crowding him easily-- Jason parted his lips to exhale a shaky breath and Tim watched it carefully. The pull of a frown wanting to mark his beautiful face-- concern wanting to carve precious lines into his forehead.

"You're not getting better," Jason whispered as if only they should hear. The swallow of words was thick enough to allow Tim to watch the lifted bob of his Adam's apple pull the skin taunt.

"I think I'm dying," Tim finally admitted. Jason pulled the fabric away and checked his face to be sure it was clean. Touch carefully and nearly sweet.

"I know you are," Jason sighed and laid down, tucking his head across his good thigh, legs tangled up in wires and almost kicking one of the computers off the bed. Tim allowed his fingers to run through his hair, the sickness a pleasant contrast to the pounding of keys they had endured all day.

"Ra's wanted us distracted, but we have no idea why or what they took. Batman isn't sharing everything which is not a surprise," Tim released a long breath, the chilled air colliding with Jason's face making him scrunch it up in mild annoyance. "And I really, really-- really don't want to be in this bed anymore."

The last part whined out, Tim sliding down into the mound of pillows until he almost disappeared from view. Jason was quiet as usual nowadays. His cheerful smirks and playfulness replaced with a darker mask Tim was determined to shed every chance he had.

"You always do that," Jason commented, opening his eyes to glance up towards Tim who peaked around a pillow edge.

"I know," Tim concluded that he changed the subject regarding his condition, denial wasn't the root of it-- but mostly because it didn't serve them any good anymore worrying about it when they clearly had other objectives. Tim didn't want to die in this bed. He wanted to be on the field-- saving lives-- being a hero.

"If you go I go--" Jason admitted too casually, sitting up to brush his lips carefully along the juncture of his exposed throat. Tim shivered at the contact, dampening his lips with a drag of his tongue.

"Stupid decisions as usual," Tim retorted,

Jason huffed. Sitting up to hang his face near his own. Tim tilted his head, so he wasn't buried in the pillows and reached forward to catch Jason's mouth in a desperate kiss. Jason responded instantly, leaning into it until Tim was forced to slide down in the blankets from the added weight. All his wounds screamed at him immediately-- little spots ignited in shock. His gasp couldn't be contained-- reluctantly losing contact with Jason whose worry swept over his features.

"Stop-- I'm used to it, it just surprises me," Tim nudged his nose into the hallowed point of Jason's jaw who wasn't convinced and never was. He bit him there to stop the words he already knew were getting ready to spill out-- instead of being rewarded with a subtle grind of his hips.

"You-- are use to being in pain," Jason managed to persecute. "I hate you."

"Doubtful or you wouldn't be so prickly right now," Tim knew he was experiencing some sharp swinging moods lately with all the meds and pain putting him in a bad mood. But distractions were always wanted when he needed a break-- and Jason never followed through with any of his teasings.

"Take me to shower-- I need one, and you can help," Tim ordered as casually and innocently as possible, running his thumb along the bite mark and pressed into it to watch the color swell into a dark red.

"Fuck-- are you serious?"

"Yes," Jason pulled back, and Tim's confidence was unwavering. He was a little nervous but if he was dying-- well. Whatever was happening, he wasn't leaving the world a fucking virgin.

"Okay," Jason conceded and Tim's sense of victory replaced with a warm pool of desire.

"Really?" he regretted to second guessing instantly, but his tongue shot off in surprise when Jason rolled off the bed and moved towards the bathroom. Jason laughed, reaching back to pull off his shirt in one smooth movement. Tim watched the stretch of muscles longingly.

"Only if you tell me if we need to stop," Jason pointed the finger at him and winked before disappearing into the bathroom where he heard the shower turn on. Tim smirked, slowly moving the blanket out from under him. All his body screamed instantly at the motions, but he gritted his teeth and shifted out until his bare heels touched the carpet. It was now Tim took better stock of his energy and strengths, noticing that he wasn't as dizzy as he had been from the drugs they had injected into him. Tim confidently stood up, fingers curling into the mattress, so he didn't fall over.

"Determined to see me naked that much babe?" Jason had two towels draped over his shoulder hand on his hip like he was highly amused. Tim sneered playfully, enduring the rise entirely until he was able to stretch out into a full stand. Jason didn't make to intrude right now, and Tim was grateful the other was always reading what he needed without Tim needing to tell him to back off. The wound to his thigh stretched unpleasantly, but it handled the weight.

"You are black and blue," Jason commented, Tim, glancing up to see the steam from the awaiting hot shower wafting into the bedroom.

"They beat you up because of your mouth," Tim retorted taking careful steps towards Jason so he didn't make a fool of himself and pass out or something super embarrassing. His head pounded as it always did now, the nose bleeds were a regular occurrence too. Whatever. Tim's determination had him walking right into Jason's space and greeted with fingers under his chin to lure him down for a kiss.

Jason wrapped a strong arm around his back, leading them into the tiled bathroom where a grand shower awaited them. There was a long bench inside so Tim could choose to sit if he wanted too. The water pounded against the stones along the floor, a welcoming aroma meeting his nose the moment the glass door opened further releasing more steam.

Tim stepped out of sweats, waiting patiently for Jason to unwrap the fabric bandages along his collerbone and back, and to apply some plastic wrap over the central area with large pieces of tape. The steam lulled him into a pliable state while Jason worked the same to the wound on his thigh, fingers clamped into the metal railing attached to the shower door. Jason nipped at his other thigh while he was down there jolting Tim from his sleepy state to open his eyes downward to glare at the smirking man.

"You really needed this shower," Jason stood up wrapping a pinky with his own.

"Actually-- I think you are right for once," Tim teased stepping into the shower to let the pounding water collide into the crown of his head. Jason didn't take long to strip down, situating into the comfortable space with his hands cradled along his hips and pressed lovingly into his back. The two let the water be their focus for a while, forcing their eyes closed and the sounds of the liquid drown out the world. Jason was the one to pull back first, turning Tim, so the water hit his back shoulders while he reached for some shampoo.

It was domestic Tim realized. He had assumed-- maybe because all people had this imagery of couples devouring each other in the shower in a heated mess of limbs and energy-- that it was probably what was going to happen in here. But the atmosphere hovered in a delirium of calm Tim had wanted more than anything else. The scratching of nails in his scalp working the grime of laying in bed for too long away, the scents of soaps familiar and comforting while they washed his hair and Jason insisted on doing it over one more time.

Tim was struck stupid with how much he was happy to be alive in this moment of time, and grief suddenly caught up to him while fingers brushed over his elbows, and rubbed into his cheeks and along his face to clean it with precise determination. Tears burned the corners and fell along with the droplets of water-- and if Jason realized it he didn't say anything. Just kept cleaning every little part of his battered and beaten skin as if he had known all along Tim needed it.

"I don't want to di--" he swallowed, his crystalline gaze vibrant from the red capillaries accentuated in the whites of his eyes. "I know I say it's fine-- but it's a lie."

Jason had droplets of water caught on his lips, but Jason didn't frown in sadness or smile in victory to Tim admitting this. He just leaned forward and kissed him, the contact stealing his breath in a frantic sharp inhale through his nose. Tim wished he could better lift his arms to wrap his fingers around the back of his neck and lure Jason's tall self down better-- but Jason leaned at a better angle, so it wasn't needed. Deepening the kiss as water cascaded down their noses and caught along their mouths now panting.

Tim was sure his heart would pound out of his chest, the slick of soap along his marked up ribs allowed Jason's hand to glide over it with ease and situate low on his tailbone, fingers splayed out in taunt of wanting to go lower. Tim nudged his nose to Jason's cheek to gain access to his neck, nipping the hard muscles with a snap of teeth and determined kisses. Jason's knees shook just enough to force him forward a step-- their mouths now hovering a breath away. Tim surprised they weren't in complete contact anymore when his back almost collided into the tiled wall.

Jason was looking at him in a crazed way that made him think on the day he crawled out of a grave. Tim smirked and as if on command it let a small rolling growl out of his partner.

"I'm glad we waited," Jason took a step forward, the angle of water hitting his shoulders spraying Tim in the face. He reached his hands up to cover the assault but Jason was spinning him around wrapping palms over the backs of Tim's hands until they pressed into the wall.

"You are a romantic under all that Red Hood rebellion," Tim's breath caught at the surprised stretch, the burn a strange and intrusive addition he hadn't anticipated and wanted more of. Jason nudged his ear leaning forward to brush a kiss above the bandage.

"Our love story is one no one would appreciate but us," Jason released with a soft huff of amusement. Tim shifted his weight onto his better leg-- Jason took the change with a slicked addition leaning into him with a roll of his hips and promise of what they actually wanted to get into. Tim's head lulled back to enjoy the senstations, relaxed and strangely at ease with what they were doing. It was easy with Jason whispering stupid nothings into his ear. Making him laugh a few times, and a blush kiss his ears knowing Jason was only serving to give Tim more blackmail material than Tim would know what to do with.

Each bruise seemed to melt away, all his body vibrating with energy and allowing him to remember what it felt like to not be focused on missions or cases.

"When did you fall in love with me?" Jason asked, leaving Tim with a dizzying awareness to the emptiness and lack of contact as Jason took a step back. His legs felt like they wanted to give out, and he turned to give Jason a mouthful when he realized that it was what he wanted. The moment he turned around, he was greeted with a flustered and barely contained Jason. A blush was ignited all over his skin in a blotchy mess, chest heaving and stretching old scars as he attempted to regulate his breath. Tim's calculating gaze lingered all over him, down the mapping of abs that were sprinkled in droplets and taking in the sight of his girth wrapped solidly in Jason's palm as if he had no restraint left.

"Long, long, ago," Tim breathed out with a stunning smile. Jason turned off the shower, the lack of water pounding into the stones a shock to the senses. But Tim stepped passed, taking a towel to his face and feeling the lingering effects of Jason's intimate touching go numb in desires for more. His entire body vibrated in excitement, Tim containing it only by not looking back.

He walked out of the bathroom and towards the bed, shivering from the chill of the changed temperature. Jason pressed another towel into his back, furthering drying him off and carefully running the article down his legs. Tim was aching-- and yet peaceful. Eyes forward on the bed while Jason continued to pamper him-- and take care of him.

"I'll wrap these after," Jason promised, turning him to kiss his lips and Tim savored everything in that one kiss. Realizing that though he didn't understand what was happening-- or that they both have been through too much. That presently all he had to think about was the warmth of his mouth and the lushness of the comforter against his pinked skin from the shower. The awkardness of waiting for Jason to open a condom wrapper that had Tim laughing into his hands until they were peeled off by a squeal he would deny forever when fingers dug into his sides with enough pressure to hurt every bruise and tickle him until his eyes dampened.

But them being together right now. The slow grind-- the burn that went far deeper than anything else they would ever experience was all Tim let his focus onto now. How love was just as unknown at the magic of the locket-- or the Lazarus Pit. Every case could have an ending, but life didn't always work out so easily and where once Tim would have held onto the facts and what was could logically be understood-- he let himself go to his emotions.

His spine arched gently, cradled carefully in a powerful slide of hands to keep the angle perfect. Pants shifted long and drown out when a spark ignited in his gut, and he barely contained the relased moan forcing the crown of his head back into the pillows. His ankle struck a computer when it rose up to wedge against the divot of Jason's lower spine and the moment they came it was a bliss he didn't want to end. The suspension of forgetting the world and all that resided in conflicts and problems around them one Tim wanted to be in forever.

Jason's soft kisses to his cheeks and boyish expression inches from his own was what he was greeted with when he came back out of his head. He snorted embarassed, and suddenly felt the loss of contact with Jason and worse every single infliction made him wince and collapse into the large pile of pillows.

"You are so lazy today-- spoiled now," Tim laughed a little, feeling sleepy and content while Jason forced him up to clean him off with a damp towel from earlier and removed all the plastic from his wounds to rewrap his blushed skin in soft bandages.

"You are still smiling," Jason commented after a few minutes, still naked and gorgeous.

"I think I have a plan--"


	12. Layers of Traps

"This plan is..." Bruce's voice carried loudly in the Batcave. Tim was gearing up while his mentor paced. He seemed naturally angry for no reason less that they had been working on something without him. Tim got it. He'd been thoroughly outraged many nights when Batman flew off without saying a word to him-- but this wasn't like that. Tim felt determined that they weren't trying to prove a point or get back at Batman's lone wolf personality he often failed at without intelligent planning. He had more allies than he ever admitted, and Tim had to hope his frustrations came because it was them directly.

Jason's snort drew his gaze over to his partner who was equipping various knives to his belt, guns partially apart on the table in front of him. Jason was in a good mood, relaxed, and calm. Tim continued to secure his armor while Bruce turned away to look at the computer.

Tim interrupted whatever Bruce was going to say by clearing his throat. "You see the connections in my report; what is wrong with the plan?"

Batman sighed. "It's who that is the problem. I have every known Lazarus Pit locations on Earth-- Ra's al Ghul showing interest in both of you makes me want to take over this case and bench you. He's a dangerous foe-- someone you shouldn't be taking so lightly."

Jason chuckled, "You hear that Tim? Maybe therapy would help us out-- I believe that's a proof of caring about us. It's kinda sweet--"

"Quiet--" Tim rolled his eyes at Jason's childish retort. He didn't speak right away. Standing in the Batcave was always a surreal experience, one he had cried about after found alone the first time he stepped into the place. Tim had wanted to be Robin with every ounce of his person-- he had carried the burden of being an anchor to Batman; to keep him on the side of good after Jason's death. Tim had trained for years to be in this position today, and he realized that his bravery stemmed from everything the man before him gave him.

It was dangerous. Beyond it actually, but they face this level of danger every time they walk out the door geared up.

"I believe Ra's wants the locket because it could grant life without the Pit. He knows you are keeping tabs them, sealing what you can. How he learned of this object is up for debate-- what I know is that he stole something in Russia knowing we would be in the UK. But I think-- he figured out about Jason and that was why those men were holding onto us."

"Based on what I could find-- it was a medical facility masked as a military bunker," Bruce said turning around to type on the computer. Satellite photos zoomed in on the compound and Tim watched the string of footage floating on the right with details to labels found on boxes and the body bags to prove part of this theory.

"The lime green bags had been bothering me when we were caught; they were easy to spot-- which is why I felt as if none were supposed to go off, as if it was a distraction. That last bomb had a trap to slow me down on disarming it-- it's why I noticed the fingerprints at all. It was messy, done on purpose."

Tim swiped the screen to pull up the man who had trained them in the bomb making. Jason hadn't admitted what he did to the guy to get him to talk, but Tim could only imagine the state Jason left him in.

"Where we should expect to see him as the owner to these prints--it was actually this woman. A military officer from Russia who-- with no surprise, was a bomb expert before joining."

The lady whose face came up had a nasty scar running across her left cheek; she appeared hallowed and tired in the photo. Eerily like Tim at the moment if he was observant. He knew things could have a connection, but he didn't have any evidence to back it up. It was the problem with all of this case and why he believed the best course of action was to trick Ra's into thinking the locket got destroyed.

"She's dead from the bomb that went off prematurely. We assume Ra's had it go off to get rid of her and the evidence and to keep us focused on the men we had been working with," Jason stepped over, folding his arms across his chest as he spoke following Tim.

"She planted those prints hoping we'd find them. This is the only reason we realized it was The League's work."

Tim swiped his fingers upward to show Bruce a man in a news clipping from many years ago.

"Her husband--" Tim tapped on the computer and brought up a death certificate for the person. "He apparently died seven years ago-- not that anyone knows this as it was-- for lack of a better word-- buried. Too bad for them I am good at what I do and had weeks to sit in bed." Jason chuckled lightly at Tim's expense-- he fought a blush he didn't want Bruce to see.

"See that ring on his finger?" Tim zoomed in on a compilation of images from the couple over an expanse of time. "That same ring was on her own on a few photos I could find, when I zoomed in on it and mapped the indention on its side-- it matched those symbols on the locket."

Bruce slipped into his chair to take over the computer searching while Tim and Jason presented all the case. It was a lot-- Tim knew it wasn't everything to prove motive, but it was leading them to the person who would have their answers. Tim swallowed thickly to their next piece he needed to admit. Feeling Jason's fingers just catch along his wrist.

"We're not certain of a connection, but if they were working on raising the dead at that facility she worked at-- maybe that is why the League destroyed it. We don't know what was taken either..."

Jason interrupted him gently with a hand on his forearm. The touch was calming-- Tim hadn't realized how sweaty his hands had gotten or that just the smallest twitch made his fingers jump. "Bruce-- all those people died in that terrorist attack because he wanted to lure us there after seeing me alive. He's collecting things that offer him a chance at life-- he knows we did something. Cause-- well I'm here."

Bruce sighed, pinching his brow for a few breaths. Tim and Jason both took a few steps back. They knew on instinct Bruce was piecing things together brilliantly. There was still missing parts in their report; about their connections and Tim's health. He was confident Bruce picked up on the holes just not having figured out what was suppose to be there. Tim held the pocket watch out by its chain drawing Bruce's attention from the massive screen and turned to face the two.

"If you look at the time Bruce-- it's fallen behind and wrong now. The second hand isn't moving as fast..." Tim released a long breath. "I'm going to die, Bruce," the locket spun at the words. Jason lowered his eyes to the ground but still held his fingers loosely around Tim's wrist. It hurt Tim's chest to once again admit that, grief wished desperately to surface, but he swallowed it down with a determined clench of his fist. "Sorry to say it rashly, but bringing back Jason with this locket had a price."

"A price?" the growled yet somehow calm delivery of words had Tim's arms explode in goosebumps. Bruce was already geared up-- appearing larger than life and yet Tim found he wasn't scared of facing this reality anymore so long at this man was on his side.

"I don't want to--" Tim started, walking forward until the locket dropped into Bruce's awaiting hand. "But I am certain that locket bound me to death. There is no evidence-- no proof that I can write a report for you. It goes against every logical piece of information I have gathered for this case-- I just know it stands to be the closest truth to why I am getting so sick."

Bruce frowned, enclosing his hand around the locket.

"How much time is left?" Bruce asked bluntly making Tim wince at the directness of it. He turned away, tearing his arm from Jason in the movement to lift his boot up on a chair to finish tying his laces.

"Math doesn't lie at least-- based on the slowing curve. A week at most,"

"And then it will stop?" Bruce pressed as if Tim was giving him pieces to a puzzle he was determined to work out. It was sad in its own way-- this had been why he didn't want to tell him about his theories. Batman would be set on solving this even after he's gone. How much time would be wasted? Tim walked over and fished out a duplicate of the watch the computer had made from the detailed blueprints from his logging.

"We don't think you should destroy it, but it needs to be secured. People shouldn't use it," Jason finished Tim's thoughts by walking back over to his side. The two stood there looking at Batman who on the outside appeared fine less the strain above his left brow twitching ever so slightly. Tim could wish for a thousand other possibilities, but he couldn't ever take back the one wish he was ever granted. The fact Jason was alive by his side-- here for Bruce and Alfred-- for the world. He'd not let Ra's al Ghul have it.

"I'm going to lose both of you--" Bruce said evenly for the words were heavy in grief he could barely contain. Jason palmed his mouth, glancing at Tim before he spoke.

"We don't think I'll die-- again," Jason gritted, but Bruce shook his head in denial, turning his back to them. The locket crunched against the keys on the computer; curling fingers sent a clear tension of frustration up both Batman's arms.

"We have to trick him into believing this locket is going to be destroyed. It's a sound plan-- one I am willing to make," Tim waited. It was ridiculous to think that Batman would make this easy now that he knew some of the truth. Tim was one step ahead of him though. Already the trap was in place; both for Ra's al Ghul and Batman. Before anyone else could speak the alarms sounded the computer loudly echoing in the cave. The screen switched gears and filled the screen with Tim's program.

Various explosions rocked a part of the city not usually traversed. It would induce terror-- and Tim could hope that no one was caught in any of the blasts. Batman's attention took over the reports, and it was all they needed to hop on their bikes and fly out of the cave.

There were no trackers. All their gear was their own. Ra's al Ghul would think they were there to help the people of Gotham and take advantage. Batman would be trying to focus on them-- attempting to work seven steps ahead to know Tim's final plan not put on paper. Tim knew Batman would work it out in minutes, but he would use those minutes to his fullest benefit. The explosions weren't a decoy-- they were a trap for Red Hood and Robin to fall into by their design.

The weight of the fake watch ticked proudly against his thigh. This plan would work because it was simple.

"You remember the first time you saw me?" Jason asked through their communicator. Tim's lips twitched at the memory.

"You remember yours?" Jason laughed richly in response.

"I'm still surprised you were willing to talk to me while lost in limbo,"

Tim couldn't remember why he had been so brave then. It wasn't a part of him he focused on with any pride. Being brilliant had been easy, learning how to fight had been necessary. But he had been the bravest two moments in his life;

When he marched up to Batman to demand to be Robin and when he hadn't been scared of seeing Jason.

"I won't promise I will let you die tonight, I will try to save you," Jason's voice was low in his ear, and though when Jason spoke, it was warm and made everything in his soul scream in happiness; right now it made him shiver.

"I know, Batman will too,"


	13. To Die a Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of important dialog in this chapter so I hope nothing is confusing. If you need me to answer anything please let me know in the comments and Ill try to clarify anything without giving something away. Jason is present but won't have a big role with this scene--

Tim knew deep down he was impatient. He had many days to ponder his life, where it had lead too, and exactly where it could be going while he had been forced into bed rest to heal. Tim knew his body wasn't going to ever recover properly-- he'd continue having medical issues from the gunshot in his chest and the broken bones he had to keep having reset. Even if he survived all this, life was mapped out to have a complicated development. One filled with danger both personally with his body and because of the role he had in the city as a vigilante.

Life had been a constant. It was a distorted way to think about it, but Tim speculated people did take for granted the present moment of their lives. Tim was guilty of such thinking, peering ahead so far that he was certain he couldn't ever reach that peak or tilting his mind back into the past and feeling regrets and longing for memories that seemed simpler now that he had the experience.

He wasn't a teenager anymore. He wasn't a kid who went to college or even attended school properly-- there were no friends that he could joke about with involving sports or clubs. Tim had the team, and they had somehow become his family to replace and protect his biological one. Tim could laugh at the irony that he essentially erased already from the world. Digitally he had taken care of removing as much of himself as possible, replaced with fake identifications and false stories to cover their tracks undercover for the last year. But the Tim Drake that stood before Batman those few years ago was truly gone now.

Death had been a distant sort of conversation he's had once or twice with himself, maybe more so with Alfred who worried about all of them. Alfred would make some pie-- a key lime or lemon tart that Tim loved smothered in whipped cream. They would share a tea on the office balcony, looking at the gardens and the midday sun and speak on the most challenging topics. It had been on Alfred's suggestion to make the manor his safe place mentally while Bruce trained him for torture. Alfred knew heart and home, life and love better than all of them and Tim realized more than once how they took him for granted. Not seeing the present time-- refusing to recognize how special they all were to each other.

He understood profoundly what it felt like to lose people-- but he now knew what it felt like to get them back. Jason coming back had been a wrench into the present timeline-- it changed everything. For better and for worse.

Impatience was what was driving him into this plan. Maybe that was the piece of evidence Batman was picking up on that made him want to take over the case. Tim didn't have time anymore. He couldn't relax and look at the facts with a clear mind. The watch housed in the cave would tick down while they attempted to trick someone brilliant like the Demon. And eventually-- a week or so it would stop, and Tim knew in his gut what that meant.

A life for a life right? Balance. A wish he didn't intend to give but one he wasn't surprised he made without realizing it.

When did Tim ever value his life?

The bikes modified for speed had a sleek design that could make them disappear in traffic if they were careful enough in how they flew down the roads. Tim had set several bombs to go off in secure locations; they weren't aimed to cause too much damage-- more noise and alarm over genuine terror. But he knew Batman would want to be sure everything was safe, and his program was running in tangent to the Batcomputer to make it seem like a bigger issue than it was. The moment Batman showed up on the scene he would know what Tim did-- he'd see through the explosion and attempt to find them immediately.

They had a small window to convince Ra's al Ghul to take him.

The drive sent them through Gotham and towards the edge of the city where a quarry provided concrete for city improvements. Dust flew up around the twin bikes while they entered the area without an attempt to hide their entrance. The explosion he had hit here had made a mess of white dust coated over everything. When they arrived, people working the last shift were running from the place scared. At least they all cleared--

Tim was up front, looking around for any signs that their plan had succeeded in luring Ra's here. But it was quiet at the moment-- as if only the shadows were watching them.

"They are here," Jason said while flipping up the kickstand and parking the bike. Tim slowed down, parking his bike as well. His gear was different and new, a design to separate him from the original Robin style. Sleek reinforced leather in dark hunter greens and black secured around most of his body, those parts prone to take hits were armored suitably should a knife or bullet make to penetrate it. He stuck with the basic eye mask with the computer attached to the lens to feed him better data. The armor felt right for this moment. Robin colors but without the boy wonder feeling attached to it.

He wasn't a kid anymore. There wasn't need to stand by Batman and be a sidekick anymore. Though he didn't want to be alone either or labeled anything separate as if he could stand alone; he just wanted to be himself. Tim peered over to Jason who was geared up in his Red Hood helmet and more guns than Tim would ever allow leaving the Batcave. He snickered against his will.

"You have enough firepower there," Tim walked down the slope of the seemingly empty quarry. Jason followed, drawing one of the pistols at those words.

"You have more on you than I do, plus I need to act the part," Jason commented, and he was correct. Tim didn't appear as if he had much by way of weapons on him, but he had many materials secured in his belt and person.

"Yeah, yeah," Tim responded, reaching on his back to pull off his Bo, snapping it in half to disengage the lock then putting it back together to have it at its full height. They walked down the curving slope, boots to crushed stone no matter how silent they attempted to be. The place was enormous as expected from a quarry but in its size, there was an unspeakable presence lingering about while they made their way to the bottom.

"They are going to surround us," Jason's head was tilted towards various vantage points along the top curve of the area. Tim nodded.

"Of course they would,"

"Just letting you know," Jason aimed his gun and shot towards one of the shadowed building sticking out from the hard rock. The bullet embedded into the stone, spraying them in dust but Tim could see in his lens the heat signatures of many people following with the darkness around the top of the quarry to having avoided the bullet.

"Did you have to shoot that thing?" Tim was on high alert now, every part of his body flooded with adrenaline from the coming fight.

"Of course, had to let them know I was here too," Jason's usual sass wasn't all spoken there. Tim understood without needing it explained.

"They aren't going to attack us yet," Tim logically said, peering at the fake watch to put it in view. Did the plan not work? Or did it work too well? He knew they looked like they were walking right into a trap.

"Not unless I tell them too," The Demon's voice echoed from many places, the hard surfaces making it seem like there were five of them. They reached the bottom of the quarry where various equipment laid to rest for the night. Tim and Jason were back to back with a few feet between them.

"Distracting Batman?" Ra's al Ghul walked out of the shadows, appearing alone when they knew he was not. He was in a long jacket that dragged on the ground behind him like a cloak in dark hues and gold accents. So his plan hadn't worked. Not entirely.

"What did you take in Russia?" Tim questioned immediately, voice unwavering or showing fear. He took a step forward. "If you think were not putting it together just as quickly as you are acting on your agenda you are naive."

"I never underestimate Batman," Ra's sneered, "but I am surprised you picked up on it so quickly. The fact you did all this in hopes to distract him and attempt to deceive me is quite the plan had I not accumulated upon it." The demon's eyes were on Jason though he spoke to Tim, "you are him are you not? The Robin who died? Now breathing, walking-- fighting for a worthless cause. How ever, did that happen?"

"Nah," Jason had his gun secure in his grip, pointed just past Tim to a dark spot near a piece of machinery that probably housed an assassin. "That guy is buried 6 feet under having a long nap. I'm just a nobody playing bodyguard to that one."

"Don't speak so casually to me,"

Tim's nerves ignited when two dozen masked and cloaked figures appeared out of thin air. They slid down the sides of the quarry and crawled from every dark place like an ooze of sludge. Swords were directed their way as well as arrows efficiently surrounding them as expected.

"You set yourself up for me to find you and leave the Bat solving your noise in the city. Do you want something, Robin?" Ra's walked forward reaching out for the watch. "What is it?"

"I want to know if it's possible for people to come back from the dead without a price--" Tim admitted, allowing the fake watch to coil better into his fingers through the chain. "You are the only person I know that has cheated death with the Lazarus Pits. Other's have no better explanation."

"Batman had them all sealed up and tracked," Ra's peered at the watch with scrutiny from afar. Tim's throat was shaking ever so slightly. This was ridiculously dangerous. They both could die here right now if he realized it was a fake.

"That place in Russia, they were working on bringing back the dead, weren't they? Had it worked?" Tim inquired, somehow keeping his voice steady. Ra's stepped forward, and Tim had his weapon between them with a steadfast set of his feet. The man waved him off as if it was child's play.

"You are well informed. No, nothing the doctors could do-- could raise the dead, but they tried before I destroyed the building and took their research. It is an event that only happens in unknown ways-- far from being understood by humanity. However, you stand here."

Jason hissed in his comm in concern that he was lying.

"This is the object that brought him back to life-- are you saying that it was a one-time deal?" Tim challenged without an ounce of fear in his tone. Ra's paused to ponder it, fingers scratching into his graying beard.

"There are other objects aren't there?" Tim pushed, and then hands were on them immediately, a sword to his throat and both his arms bound with a tight grip to the small of his back. The watch was ripped from his hand before he could comprehend its removal. He hadn't taken a single breath before he became disarmed. They spun instantly into a fight out of instinct; his weapon collided with the ground he quickly kicked up on. Sending the edge into the air to expertly strike his elbow. It released into a chain to split into two pieces, wrapping around his arm. It took a spoken word to send a charge of electricity up the armor and into the two people holding him.

He was panting, feeling a line of blood from the blade slip down his neck in the faint yet fine line to his jugular.

Jason stopped moving against the assassins holding him still, not wanting to cause Tim any harm now that he was somehow free and looking right at the Demon with such determination.

Tim knew Ra's al Ghul took something in Russia and he was aware that calmness came because of confidence in a plan. What was it? How many objects did he have? Tim had to destroy them all.

The Demon looked at the watch carefully before pocketing it.

Tim couldn't help but know that this was their only chance to get any information logged into the computer. The recording device blinked a red dot in his lens telling him what had been spoken was already logged.

"Bring him with us,"

The words surprisingly directed at Jason and they shoved Tim aside to control Jason who looked on the verge of beginning to fight. Tim somehow found calmness. Confidence. 'Keep it steady.' He chanted in his head, inhaling slowly and allowing the present to capture him. Seconds mattered in a fight. Every tick of a clock proved how everything progressed forward. He use to have five minutes with Jason. He'd appear as if no time had passed, blink open and see Tim for days-- weeks on end.

Seconds were worth his attention. They added up, they made up his life, and they arrived at his death.

The League was dragging Jason away from him, and he stood there-- still as a mountain.

"Wait--" Ra's was watching him, the intensity raw as lightening between them. Tim's focus shifted onto the man who Batman said was too much to take on. Tim knew he was right.

"You know something more--" Ra's walked forward into his space and Tim waited, not moving a muscle only breathing. "You wanted me to take him? What is it? Speak, or I will run him through--"

"I want the truth; I want to understand why it works-- that's why you wish to take him. The others who did come back to life never made it through your tests," Tim guessed, but it would take only the Batman to know it was.

"I know why," Tim continued to lie, "so if you wish to understand, it's not him you want-- it's me."

"Stop it!" Jason growled, but the assassins held onto him tightly. Ra's pulled out the pocket watch, holding it by its chain in front of Tim's face.

"You are-- just like the others."

Tim swallowed, calming the victory to the confirmation of words proving there were others like Jason. "Did they use such objects?" Tim dared to ask, and Ra's sighed, narrowing his eyes and appearing like he knew Tim was prodding on purpose.

"Yes--"

"Let me see them," Tim said a little too quick, "take me and let me see these items. I have more knowledge on all this than anyone else you have hired."

"And to what end? I went through to keep you distracted for a reason-- Batman doesn't need this information. Taking Robin hasn't worked in anyone's favor, but I can only make an exception if its reward is worth it. This one stands alive when he should be dead--"

Ra's leaned forward, a sneer on his face making him frightening in the moonlight and low fog from the soot of the explosion earlier.

"Plus, I needed this piece-- this is the one I've been looking for. The real one," Ra's grin turned feral, and he leaned back to align his heels to the stone. "The other items worked in haphazard ways because magic is unpredictable, but this one accomplishes power over death exactly how I envisioned it too."

The fake twirled once before it was contained in Ra's palm and he walked away.

"If you take it away from me--," Tim tested to speak another lie, but Jason interrupted him.

"Robin--," Jason tried in a whisper through his comm, but on the outside, he was trying to get out of the grip on his arms to keep up appearances. "Batman is on his way; I am certain something hacked into my visor to ping our location."

Tim paused again. He had to get those other objects, that was the plan-- the one Batman didn't want them to act on because of how dangerous it was. Tim understood why he was allowing himself to be taken under the knowing guise that he was likely to perish while doing it. All it took was one beacon-- he could upload all his findings easy enough if given the time. Then Batman and Jason, or even Barbara or Dick could finish destroying them all if he ran out of time.

But it was the heroes way to die, right? He didn't want to be laying in bed while the clock slowed down and ultimately stopped. He didn't want his family around him-- holding his hand and grieving. Tim didn't want to see Jason cry-- or Bruce scream in frustrations. He wanted to save people and immortality wasn't something The Demon should have at the expense of another life.

He had messed up with Jason-- Tim had wished for him to return but he hadn't known the cost. Tim didn't regret it. He swore over and over that he didn't-- but he wouldn't die without doing something to stop it from ever happening again. All those innocent people were killed in London because Ra's al Ghul was content with searching for this power.

The Demon had them all if his statement was true enough. The pocket watch was the one he had been looking for all along, and it was safe away from him and not twisted in his hand. He could do this.

"You won't know how I brought him back to life," his resolve was unwavering. "Batman is on his way-- make your decision. Take him, and all you get is a test subject as all the others. Take me, and I will dismantle everything and give you precise instruction. I told you I wanted the truth. Blame the detective side of me, but I need to understand how something like this works. But he stays. I have run every test on him-- there is nothing but a living man before you. That is it. One minute until he is here."

Ra's al Ghul stopped his actions to speak, "Are you saying you could replicate its powers with the other objects?"

"I am saying I know how to make it work to make you immortal, but I need everything in front of me including a Lazarus Pit so I can be entirely sure."

"Deal-- take him. Let go of the other,"

"Robin!" Jason snarled, but black smoke filled the area as Batman arrived dramatically with a kick against one of the assassins. Everything was a blur of fighting-- except to Tim who walked away from it, fists curled into his side while he listened to his family fight in the smoke.

"You have a plan I assume in parallel to your claims," Ra's spoke knowingly by his side. Tim glanced back as they grappled up to the top and he was shoved into a car that sped off before anyone could intervene.

"It would be foolish not too--"

"Of course, strip down-- we don't need Batman following us,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this might seem a hair over the top-- but I felt it important for Tim to have to convince Ra's in such a way without him being so easily manipulated to take Tim in a few paragraphs. This is all part of their plan-- the one Batman was very against last chapter lol which I feel is pretty canon in general. haha thanks for reading-- Cas


	14. Fates Gain in Balance

Tim woke up once again in the cold room made of stone and a single window, long and thin to let the light in but not offering a way to escape from. There had been a breeze whistling through most of the night, waking him from strange delirious nightmares about clocks and crawling his way out of graves. It appeared at first glance towards the window that a storm had laid fresh snow on the mountain. It released an involuntary shiver to his spine.

He sat up on the bed, hooking his legs weakly over the edge of the mattress to settle the pads of his feet to the chilled cobblestone floor where the rug barely made it to the piece of furniture. Someone had started a fire, and a small part of him wanted to lay back down and sleep for a few more hours.

He was sore, along with the back of his neck and down through his shoulders from sitting most of the passing days hunched over a table full of what appeared to be random items. The pocket watch included in this mess of equipment and various notes scribbled on parchment and old wrinkled paper as if to prove the league didn’t know what a computer was. Which was bullshit? He was aware that they had an intel room somewhere in this damn fortress. He also knew they wouldn’t let him near anything electronic. It was a smart decision, but to Tim, such things weren't entirely necessary. The precautions were overkill at the moment.

Jason was writing him in crude ways, and he wanted to punch him in the gut if he ever saw him again. Random bruises would form along his body. One had been shaped in an upside down smiley face, and though it was a little funny and had healthily distracted him; Tim didn’t want to imagine Jason laying in a bed within the Manor and giving himself hickeys because he was thinking about him. Regardless, it did flood his system with a warmth of happiness.

He missed him.

Tim knew in his gut that they had become codependent. It had been bound to happen after everything that transpired over the last few years, but the separation had somewhat cleared his mind of Jason. Let him focus on his task– and to work on destroying all these artifacts in a way that the League would never be able to use. It was this thought that let Tim attempt to rise, his legs trembled, and he made it one step before he had to frantically grab the banister of the four poster bed frame to stop himself from falling on the ground.

“You look like the walking dead,” Ra’s was peering in through the slotted holes in the door before a key unlocked the ornate dungeon style entrance and walked into the bedroom. Tim paid no attention to the tall man who had on royal blue robes and gray leather armor, only turned his back to carefully drop himself into a nearby chair on wheels and pushed himself in the direction of the table.

“It’s been six days, I just need today to finish,” he stated as if it was obvious his time was running out. Tim’s cheeks weren't hollowed, but there were gray hues trapped under the thin skin under his eyes. His vulnerability came mostly from getting dizzy, or from his muscles not wanting to work properly anymore. Tim ignored the state of his body shutting down– its reminder wasn’t going to change his course of action, and he refused to let it be the reason he didn’t complete it.

“You are bleeding again,” the demon pointed out, raising a brow in question to if Tim realized it. He hadn’t. Tim quickly pressed his forearm under his nose and resumed twisting a screwdriver against the tiny screws of an antique bracelet with silver engravings.

“It’s fine–”

“Is it?" Ra's steps took the man around the room in regular pace. "Your notes are detailed, I have been waiting for the ball to drop– for whatever your plan was to unfold," Ra’s began walking forward, reaching down to pick up one of the items mostly dismantled in a way that Tim knew couldn’t be accurately reassembled. Tim barely suppressed a huff in the victory.

"It seems time is the villain in your story, Timothy,”

“Caught in Time should be the title then– especially since I feel like I have been battling it since I first found this,” he nodded towards the pocket watch and Ra’s placed the other item down to move around the metal table to see the small pieces laid neatly on the surface.

“One dip in the pit and you’d likely feel better,” Ra’s sounded bored in tone, which was strange for him to admit since time was the primary issue here. Ra's would want Tim to last longer, wouldn't he? Then why the calmness?

“Though– that could have been the reason you wanted to come here. Some last ditch effort of self-preservation to give yourself more time. It could work– heal you entirely if you drink from it, could break the curse or spell on you if you sunk beneath its depths. Have you thought of this?”

“You asking means you know I have,” Tim smeared the blood across his arm sloppily, sniffing a few time to hopefully stop his nose from bleeding.

“Batman and I may have our differences, but I’d be open to the idea if you provide me what I what. You see, this power will benefit all my plans for the future of this planet. Life and death are two things I already know so much about-- but I want more reassurance."

There is was. The Demon was good with his words and making it seem as if Tim was the one who wanted such things. He did. Tim had thought in great detail about making his way into the Pit and to see if it would restore him to some level of self before the locket, but he also had doubts and no evidence to prove it would work. What if Jason died because it the spell was broken? What if he wasn't the same when he came out of it? Fixing magic with magic was a continuous curse no matter the consequences being him dying-- no matter how tempting. Tim couldn't go near that Pit.

"What is between you and Batman has nothing to do with me right now," Tim finished the last artifact. The bracelet was the most challenging because it didn't have mechanical pieces to it like the rest. He had decided instead to carve into the item with a unique set of lines to deactivate it. The object which had vibrated in his grasp was cold now, just something ordinary. Setting the small tool down with a weary sigh.

Ra's walked over towards the door, Tim lifted his gaze when he paused at the frame. Words were about to be spoken when bells began tolling throughout the place. They clanged in warning, and Tim could hear hundreds of footfalls of the army running down the main hall and spilling over the edges of the mountain like black smoke. Ra's gaze bore into his and Tim felt the smallest twitch of his lips break his perfected compliance into a small smile.

The demon stormed back into the room, drawing a sword so swiftly Tim could only blink, and it was cutting into his throat. He stayed still, the instinctive swallow forcing the sharp blade to nick the skin.

"You were waiting for it--" Tim said, "for the shoe to drop."

"How long did they know where we went? We removed everything from you,"

"Not everything," Ra's glared down at the table and noticed the pocket watch as if for the first time. He flipped the item open, running a long nail under the edge of the clock face to pop the glass off with a shatter. There inside was a blinking red dot, small enough not to be seen from behind the hour hand unless looked very carefully.

"You tricked me,"

"I had too," Tim closed his eyes in equal parts exhaustion and understanding he was probably going to be in pain soon. Training dictated he be ready for it, and so he was calm.

"He came for you! Of course he did, and what of it then! All of this was a charade?" The tone jolted him, and he opened his eyes with wrinkled confusion creasing between his brows.

"No, I did bring Jason back to life," Tim admitted, "but you are on borrowed time with me. I'm going to die soon. I had no choice but to trick you, I'm the only one who could ruin all of these." Ra's pulled the blade away and shoved everything off the table with a hard kick to its edge sending it toppling over.

"You destroyed everything I worked on," Ra's stood before him now, his sword hovering over his heart. The scars and pain from getting shot in his chest before ached at the proximity. "Tell me-- is this the cost of bringing someone back with this magic?"

"I believe so, it's why all these subjects kept dying. The world wants balance-- you can't just have a life back. You know this better than anyone with the Lazarus Pit,"

"You make it seem like you were doing me a favor,"

Tim laughed a soft sound, and the demon lowered his sword when a patter of blood struck the metal from Tim's nose.

"Maybe-- I am the good guy in this story correct?"

"No, you are a fool to believe I won't get something out of this," Ra's advanced forward, gripping the front of his shirt and dragged Tim out of the chair with surprising strength. His heels caught along the stone, his hands curled around one forearm to keep his back from being torn up on the stone floor. He was regrettably too weak to do more, and though frustration ached his insides, he managed to press his face into the cloth of robes and simply wait to see where he was being taken.

"Find him, call off the attack. I will accept Batman's presence in the chamber," Ra's ordered.

Tim was twisted around and held flush against Ra's chest when the room came into view. The cave appeared to have been hand carved out over time, the walls weren't smooth, but the jagged lines didn't have the explosive design typically used to bore into it. The ceiling of the space was vaulted high enough for small trickles of water to seep through the top layer and strike the ground into a slick texture from wear. But it wasn't the main part of this room.

In the very center was a green glowing pit, casting reflective lights along every hard surface making the room appear as if it all was underwater. Tim swallowed his nerves because though he had played up wanting this, he didn't want to be near it.

"Ra's," Batman's voice carried from the far raised left, and Tim tilted his chin back to see his mentor hanging off a jagged piece of rock like a shadowed gargoyle. Ra's wasn't amused in the slightest.

"Do you realize he could be a better detective than you? The pupil surpasses the master-- it is typically what happens with enough time is it not? I have always pursued you maybe I should have taken Timothy up instead?" Ra's calm tone resonated to his back, but the room was blurry, and he hadn't realized how much of his weight the Demon was holding up.

"I have always been impressed with his work, which is why I know he took care of everything here. Give him back to me,"

"Oh! He destroys everything I have been working on, decades of research and collecting, in testing! And you simply want him back?" the scoff is laced with anger, and Tim savors it.

He hadn't believed how much has passed. Since when he had found an engraved pocketwatch with scratched initials carved crudely. Back then, which wasn't far in the past, but enough to make him reflect. If Dick hadn't left Batman; if Jason hadn't died. If Tim hadn't taken up the mantle, and if Tim hadn't believed so profoundly he was the glue that somehow kept this broken family together-- he'd not have had the tools to save so many people.

It was the hero's life. To know every single failure and battle was sculpting him into a warrior, both of mind and body. He always believed he needed the answers and to solve problems by proving his theories. But he never once stopped to believe in the impossible. He never had faith, and he never accepted as being what it was. Though right now it became strangely apparent to him.

This was fates way of keeping the world balanced. Ra's al Ghul had every intention of using this power for selfish and detrimental plans for the league of assassins and the world. The fact he had forged a well designed terrorist attack while pursuing this treasure was enough for Tim to know it would end poorly. Tim could only speculate where that would have lead but it matter not now, he had destroyed everything. Even if he missed one object or one returned, there would be no possible way to harness the magic without so many artifacts.

Peace permeated him. Never had he felt a hero, not like this. As if he now realized what it felt like to understand something well beyond what could be interpreted or pieced together with data.

All he saw was light. It was bright enough that he couldn't tell the difference in hue, just that it was surrounding him and seeping into his lungs as an inhale only brought liquid fire. It was in his blood and in his soul. Every cell screamed and yet he felt suspended in the chaos. Floating even.

"Tim!"

He heard the voice, it echoed and vibrated muffled against the liquid but he sunk away from it, down until his back struck the stone. And then he saw something. A face, or a mirage blurred and yet visible. The apparition was smiling, a caress of fingers to his cheeks. Tim felt the edges of his vision darken to the light, and then he closed his eyes just as a hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him up.

Tim's head broke the surface, and the inhale forced liquid from his lungs. He coughed painfully, gasping for some air as his hands scrambled for contact, so he didn't slip back under the surface and made a grip too strong shoulders and black armor.

"I've got you--" Bruce's face was exposed, grim in intensity as he frowned at the situation.

"I saw someone," Tim said when he could.

"You were likely hallucinating from your fever and sickness," Bruce started walking out of the Pit, dragging Tim carefully, so he remained floating. Tim didn't believe what Bruce said.

"Our deal is understood?" Ra's voice carried from the far left, dipped in the shadows so much Tim couldn't make him out. Bruce only nodded, without peering over towards the Demon as he carried Tim from the Pit and set him down on the ground.

"What did you do?" Tim asked, and Bruce pulled his cowl back over his face.

"Nothing to worry about," Batman responded quickly.

Tim now frowned and attempted to sit up. His entire body felt free from fatigue, even the wounds from the gun shot, and old torture seemed melted away. He could still feel something for Jason though, like a warmth of emotion nestled beside his very soul.

"You collapsed, and I made a deal," Batman finally admitted.

"You put me in there?" Tim eyed his mentor, it would be incredibly easy to place blame and yell at him, but it wasn't what came out. "I understand why, but I was okay dying. You had no idea what it would do to me and Jason's connection--"

He stopped at the exposed secret before giving anything more away. Batman lifted him up, steadying his feet before wrapped an arm around his rib cage to hold him close.

"I was not okay with you dying," Batman admitted while they were escorted to the Batplane.

"You had faith then? That it would work out?" Tim had to tease because the pair of them were the least likely to ever believe in anything more. But as time has proven-- even two of the worlds greatest detectives could be convinced there could be a higher power.

"I had faith you would want another day to fight," Batman said with conviction and Tim couldn't help but feel happy in that.

"Yeah-- but now we have this deal you made. More to work on,"

"Of course, when is our business ever done?" Batman laughed a little and Tim took this too as a victory.

They flew back to Gotham and Tim rested. Though the Pit had healed everything, he was exhausted from the transformation and still unsure if the sickness would reset again. Would he grow ill once more? Would the artifact take on its ticking only to slow down in threat? Though Tim's left side brain was thinking about those things, there was this deeper knowing that it wouldn't. Somehow-- Tim knew it would be okay.

Jason met them at the door along with Alfred. It was a sight he hadn't believed possible. Tim found out later that Jason had told Batman the real plan after their fight at the quarry. It hadn't taken the detective long to work out their deeper connection, and somehow in the concern and frustration, Batman felt, he had allotted Tim the time he needed before racing in on the last day. Jason took most of the credit there. Alfred said it had felt nuclear in the Batcave while he was away.

Late that night, after eating a decent meal and gaining some more strength back they all went to bed. Tim hovered by the window in his favorite way, tucked in the large windowsill with his one foot dangling over the edge and the other pressed close to his chest. Jason was beside him much in mirrored position.

"You said you saw something in the Pit?" Jason inquired, and Tim nodded.

"Yeah, a face or actually I don't know if it was or not. It was just calming--"

"You didn't die, did you?" Jason asked, Tim, shook his head and peered over to his companion.

"No, I don't think I did. It all happened very fast for me, I don't even know what Ra's and Bruce spoke about,"

"I don't really care about that," Jason chuckled, "but if you did see something maybe it had something to do with the magic? I wonder if we're in the clear or not."

"Clear how?" Tim worried his lip while Jason pulled out a small dagger from his ankle. He brought the blade to his thumb and pressed the metal tip to it until a bead of blood swelled and dripped down. Tim peered down at his hand, nothing showed.

"Shit," he whispered.

"Thank the gods," Jason smiled, bringing the small wound to his mouth to suck on it.

"So it's left, but I still feel a connection to you--" Tim said mildly hurt it was gone. Not that he wanted to always be injured when Jason was-- maybe he had accepted his fate with that for so long for it to be gone felt oddly sad.

"Connection? You sure that's not something else?" Jason chuckled, and Tim couldn't understand right away.

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you really as dense as Bruce? I swear--" he leaned forward, and whatever Tim felt blossomed and swelled like an opening flower. Their lips hovered, the soft breath tickling the dry patches of skin before the enclosed in warmth. They separated only for Tim to realize this was different than before-- accepted entirely.

"I'm not--" Tim breathed, and Jason laughed into his cheek, pressing a chilled nose into it while he slid closer and wrapped a palm around the back of his neck. "But gross, people don't so casually say these things at the end of a mission. This isn't a movie Jason, and we aren't Babs and Dick," Tim chuckled, a soft tint of color resided to his upper chest. Jason pulled back enough to showcase his smile.

"The only reason I was able to stay back when Bruce ordered me too was that I knew without a doubt you two were the best for this case. I have been your sidekick from the beginning," Jason didn't seem put off with that, and Tim found it oddly entrancing. "You have always been my hero-- cheesy right? But I had faith you'd be back home."

"I love you," Tim finally said. "Cheesy aside, I think love was the magic we had along."

"I love you-- see? The romantic ending to an action filled story,"

Jason slid out of the window and made to put on some pajamas. Tim stayed put, thinking on what he had just said. Maybe that had been it all along. He hadn't been one to accept being adequately loved. He felt it in the past with his family, he speculated it and knew it well with Jason, and sometimes spoke those words to reassure over allowing himself to truly feel its existence.

Things would be different now that he felt love. Love for Jason, love for his current family, and love for the job.

"Bed-- we have to get you back into shape tomorrow. Alfred was already talking about the diets he's putting us on, and I think it might be a good idea to order a pizza for breakfast before it starts," Jason pulled lightly on Tim's shirt, and he complied with leaving the window.

"Only if it's double cheese with mushrooms," Tim said with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has come to an end :) will post an epilogue


	15. Epilogue

How did anyone look back at the younger moments of life and think ‘hell, I didn’t do too bad for myself.' Tim had to believe people would think themselves fools regardless of their achievements. Especially in younger situations where you learned your lesson and grew from it. Tim had so many. Moments where he’d become embarrassed when he explained how he’d handle an old fight or those earlier years as Robin when he was all jump in first– he has all the scars to prove such tales. Still, it was the best way to see one's growth. However, face smacking it was to think back on in frustrations to your own dumb child brain. Or maybe that was just children in general, even for a bunch of young heroes in masks. You were learning– you were a novice, there for– you were always destined to be a little ridiculous to an adult eye.

Childhood was supposed to follow some formula. Go to school, learn the basics and the norm of society, then decided where your opinions would stem from. Tim could look back and point with a straightforward declaration that was where he messed up the most while he grew up. A broken home carries the torch for many superheroes. It did make things easier to get into wanting to be a civil servant who didn’t see any monetary payment for fighting crime because it was illegal.

Tim knew it was not just with fighting, or torture, or computers that made his childhood vastly altered from the norm. With the small stuff too. Like with particular emotions, and how to feel completely comfortable in his own skin. It took time. Which had been deemed the villain eight or so years ago and maybe it always was going to be in the end. All he knew now was that every second gave him an advantage. It was worth it to count them and live within their very passing.

He was thirty now. Tim was currently undercover, dressed in a dark slate gray suit tailored to Wayne standards. Clear rimmed glasses tucked on the brim of his nose, hair combed and gelled out of his eyes. Under each arm was a magnum pistol situated in shoulder holsters, and his favorite custom baton secured on his back. All partially concealed with a straight fitted jacket. Dick Grayson wasn’t the only one who could go in deep into the criminal network– and Jason Todd was thoroughly enjoying himself while he handled Tim and aided in backup and build up for their case.

Tim hummed softly into the hidden mic while the bell chimed for the elevator. His forearm muscles were exposed right now, shirt rolled up revealing a multitude of deep scarring. He and Jason had gotten captured two years ago in the depths of Germany by a group attempting to harness the nuclear power of new weapons to be used by their super powered army. It had been a fluke they had been caught, a mistake– but even in that awful situation that left the pair of them in the hospital for months, this case came out of it.

Black Mask hadn’t been on their radar in dealing with these types of weapons until they worked it out based on their interrogations. There was more here they were missing, a weapon that was rumored to manipulate time for a brief moment. Tim wanted it immediately.

When the glass doors closed all that reflected back was a battered and yet strikingly handsome thirty-year-old vigilante. He hadn’t grown more in height, never to meet Jason’s towering self, and Tim kept his muscles lean to be fast. It had always proven to be a good pair up with Jason’s and even Dick or Batman, so he continued to maintain it.

“Black Mask really wants those custom rocket launchers as well,” he mused into his mic.

“Probably to make up for his small dick,” Jason’s jeer slipped casually back in his ear, and Tim had to fake a sneeze to block the chuckle. Jason’s smart mouth never changed. Not in all these years.

Clean shaven, a teased smile quickly exposed on his lips from his partner, but he erased it upon the door opening to let a few more people in. They all nodded towards Tim in recognition to his alias.

“This is my floor, excuse me,” he moved carefully around the small crowd when the elevator opened, taking his steps with knowing determination to remain unapproachable by his aura alone. He wasn't supposed to be on this floor, but his work badge allowed him to have access to a few extra places with a little hacking he did last night in their bunker under the police station. The door glided closed, and he was dipped in quiet. The glasses powered up and took a heat sensor reading while he moved down the hall. Data took over most of this right eye in the lower corner that he read while getting a lay of the land.

Jason and Tim had gotten married back when they were twenty-three. They kept their faces out of the media and out of the systems best they could less perfect alias’ and some breadcrumbs to sell their lies to the bad guys. Batman hadn’t been excited in the beginning over two of his own wanting to essentially be nonexistent, but after five years of this sorta work they were the best at it. They traveled all over the world, collaborated with the CIA when needed, but right now they were home. In Gotham helping Batman with Intel on Black Mask and it was oddly nostalgic.

“Leopold keeps licking my toes,” Jason whined as if such an adorable thing is so horrible to deal with. Tim responded with some snark.

“Kinky,”

“Gross– this is my sweet baby kitten, not you,” Jason groaned childishly but with added flair, and Tim could picture him in his Supergirl pajamas on the couch with all of their computers opened. Leopold was a red kitten with white stripes and belly. They called him Little Buddy because Damian wanted to call him Batcat. They came up with a proper name for the mischievous kitten quickly after to help Damian calm down from being outvoted.

“Why aren’t you in the bunker?” Tim whispered, drawing one of his guns to keep it tucked behind his back. “Hold,” he said before Jason could respond.

Jason quieted, Tim moved down a narrow hallway which was empty less a few office doors draped in darkness. Powering down the heat signature reading, he tested each one proving they were locked before he moved towards the furthest back door where the dark glass had a flickering light behind it. Likely a screen or television. He approached from the left, sliding his back to the frame before peering through. It was challenging to see, but a guard was sitting with his feet propped up on the desk and was classically distracted from the entertainment as if it was a movie.

“Tell Spoiler I owe her fifty bucks,”

“No way, is he honestly laughing at a comedy show while on duty? Which show?” Jason’s fingers tapped away at his phone in Tim’s ear knowing he was telling Stephanie right now was highly amusing. Jason enjoyed seeing Tim lose his bets all too much. Maybe because he usually cheated to win most of them using his tech.

“He is, and I don’t know. Moving in,” Tim tucked the gun back into the holster and released a calming breath before opening the door. The man startled immediately,

“Hey! Buddy, you can’t be in here. How did you get on this floor even?” the guard must not have seen much action because Tim could make out a tremble to his fingers while they lingered near a taser on his hip. He had curly blonde hair shaven up the slides, it made him look all too young in Tim’s opinion especially with the flustered blush up to his cheeks and ears from getting caught slacking off. In those seconds of speech, Tim already knew how to manipulate him.

“Ah, apologies,” Tim removed his glasses, slipping them into his front jacket pocket. The movement exposed his weapons, and the man paled. Tim felt a little bad, but he kept up the ruse for a few seconds longer. “Here’s my badge,” he had his hands raised to not alarm the man further, pulling the plastic button from the clip to give to the guard. While distracted with Tim, Jason had hacked into the feed to the back room where a prisoner was being held. The loop was set with ease, and Jason’s small chuckle was all he needed to hear that it was created.

“Mr. Hilmor,” the young freckled guard read the badge, looking up and down from the picture to Tim.

“Yes, I am here to implement interrogations–” the man’s eyes widened and he waved him off quickly as if to wish Tim to be quiet.

“Please, no details!” He half panicked, tossing the badge on the table as if Tim’s hands were covered in blood already. “That room there, I will. Just. Well, sign in I guess and do I need to leave? Or do I stay?”

“Are you usually here when they are spoken too?” Tim’s coolness was perfectly delivered, and the man slid into his chair looking uncomfortable.

“I'm supposed to,”

“Geez, the guy must really need this money–” Jason hummed, and Tim agreed.

“Ah, you get used to the screams,” Tim spoke casually and walked to the desk to sign in with a practiced scribble, and moved to grab a briefcase from a high nickel coated shelf. He paused for effect and peered over his shoulder, “But, I won’t tell if you want to leave. This will take about an hour. Have you had a break?” Tim’s smile was sharp, crystalline iris’ daring the man to take his offer. The guard pressed both palms into the table, brows furrowed in contemplation.

“Can I?” Seeking permission, Tim couldn’t help but shiver just slightly at it. All he did was nod once.

“Okay– if you can cover for me. I need this job man,” the guy opened a drawer with a set of keys to pull out a lunch box and then locked up a few drawers.

“Of course, I am professional, maybe bring me a coffee back?” Tim added, and Jason laughed in his ear.

“Fucking addict,” Jason whispered under his breath, but he caught it all the same.

“Sure! Can do, thank you, – sir Mr. Hilmor sir,” the guard grabbed his jacket and closed the door behind him. Tim reached over and turned off the Television before opening the briefcase on the table to examine it.

“Basic stuff in here, pretty medieval except there is a small…” he slid his finger under the corner edge and a pocket exposed from the touch revealing a small compartment that contained a vile with clear liquid and a needle set. “Well, here's the sample Batman wanted. Lucky find.”

“Great, we can run proper tests now. He and the Flash will be at it for hours now,”

“So long as the old men have stuff to do, I am happy,” Tim joked, bagging and pocketing the item in his inside pocket. Closing the case he made his way to the door, opening the locking mechanism with his badge. The door released a valve of air and extended inward before gliding to the left. In the center of the plain white six by six cell was a woman tied to a chair. She was angry and putting up a front which mildly concerned Tim. Had she already been tortured? She didn’t appear in distress so much as frustrated.

“Are you Miss Caroline?” He asked without removing his sight or position.

“What’s it to you?! I ain’t saying shit to your group of thugs. Fuck you!”

“Welp Tim might need to gag that one,”

“She sounds familiar,” Tim retaliated, earning him with what he hoped was a pout on the other side.

“Whatever lady, I need you for only this then I can either leave you here, or you can come with me,” He pulled out a phone she would recognize and started trying to get out of her binds. Tim moved behind her and used her thumb to open it with ease. They had tried to break it for a solid week, but when they found out, she was here this infiltration was worth their time even if it exposed Tim’s cover.

“No! You can’t have those numbers, those clients! It's all I have! They will honestly kill me now!” She was visibly angry now, to the point the binds were cutting into her skin to a raw red.

A younger Tim would have felt sorry for her. He’d have consoled her and said things like 'everything will be okay miss.’ But he was getting too old for this sort of emotional necessity to the bad guys, after fifteen or sixteen years of this stuff you learn to tune it out, so you didn’t lose perspective.

“Miss Caroline, you have been aiding in trafficking of weapons for years. Your innocence has never been in question from me because you are at the front of this. What happens to you isn’t my problem,” Tim said instead, changing the password on the smart phone now that he had access. He pocketed the item which contained every single weapons dealer on the docks. It had been a smart, safe guard, he had to give her that. But she was still the cause of a lot of innocent death from the guns smuggled in and handed out like candy.

“So that’s it! You gonna leave me then!” She spat at his shoes and Jason released a deep breath in his mic.

“Put the gun to her face, that always shuts them up,” Jason said.

“Just because that’s your kink–” Tim whispered.

“Tim, love of my life– just listen to your handler,” Jason retorted in a sexy growl making Tim further imagined such things to the point his cheeks threatened to tinge in color.

Tim pulled out a pistol and took an aggressive four steps forward, resting the object on her forehead. He was in control here, and though the violence of this nature wasn’t something he enjoyed working undercover sometimes had him seeing some dark and twisted shit. Often, he was the one who caused it.

She snapped. “Do it! Better than them cutting out my tongue for snitching when I didn’t!”

“What is this chemical compound? And do you know about the time weapon?” Tim asked instead, clicking back the safety and hiding the fact his heart was hammering in his chest at the smallest chance it could go off. She snarled, yellow teeth rotten from drugs and bad care exposed how all these gun runners treated their people. Black Mask sure was working with filth, Tim couldn’t understand why unless they were truly expendable.

She looked like she’d not say a damn thing, then something twisted took over her features, and she exposed herself at the mention of the drug. Her pupils dilated-- she was an addict of it.

“It’s a new drug, one that makes you high as fuck for days. So great, you shit yourself while you dream away, you see everything– the cosmos. It’s magic,” a pulse triggered in Tim’s temple to that particular word.

“Keep it, calm love, she's a no body, leave her there. It makes no sense to take her along,”

“Magic–” Tim frowned at that use of the word, because though she likely meant that it was just euphoric anytime he heard it used as a descriptor it was impossible not to worry.

“Just leave her, she has no leverage, and it's not our problem anymore. We need you to get out and get those items into storage immediately. They are worth more than anything she might say,” Jason’s voice was a constant in his life. If he wasn’t in his ear, he was by his side. They were beyond partners and dependents, and though a ringing struck his ears in a crescendo in concern there might be more to this new drug that’s tied into the weapons cache Jason was right– they needed to work on this case one step at a time.

He pulled out a syringe and jabbed it instantly into her neck, she hadn’t seen it coming and within that moment honestly exposed her fear. The chemical was one of Tim’s creation, enough to knock someone big as Aquaman out for ten minutes, on a human, it would be roughly an hour. Her memory would be fogged about the encounter, but it was mostly to give him time to get out of a situation with them screaming and alerting others. She slumped into the chair, and Tim walked out, slamming the door closed behind him.

“I’m not going to get to have that coffee,” he attempted to joke, and Jason sighed.

“We have her face on the computer if they kill her it's out of our hands, but if not we can track her now. You know my stance on that shit,”

“I do– I swear all these years pass by and the second I hear someone say something is magical I am triggered into thinking what happened before will transpire again,” Tim hit the elevator and waited for it to come up.

“Are you surprised? Ra’s never forgave you for that mission, though Batman’s deal must not have been that difficult to work with since we hadn’t heard of him until last year,” Jason added, “once we get that compound into the lab we can figure out how better it is linked with Black Mask and these special weapons.”

“Mhmm,” Tim stiffened on instinct as the door chimed and Jason immediately spoke in his ear.

“Four in the elevator,”

“They never learn,” Tim responded, weapons in hand and ready to fight his way out.

–

Later that night their apartment smelled of carry-out Chinese food and coffee. Tim was sprawled on the bed holding six cards, Jason had four. They were in a fierce battle of Uno which had resulted in the room in various states of disarray. They had finally agreed after the first five that seventeen rounds were enough to determine the winner and both found themselves in the final hand quickly as the night carried on in more laughter than frustrated banter.

Tim was watching Jason out of the corner of his eye, the cards were sprawled carelessly in his grip, leaning forward subtly to give Tim an eye full of what he had. His partner was getting sleepy, and it was the best part about getting older with Jason Todd– when he got tired he could fall asleep anywhere. Tim set his cards down and leaned forward to capture his attention, Jason was on his belly, fingers indenting his cheeks and chin cradling his palm.

“You are going to pass out, and all you did was lounge all day on the computer while I had to fight a bunch of Black Mask’s goons,” Tim teased, and Jason tossed the cards on the bed as well lifted a heavy arm up to let Tim slid in by his side. Jason pulled the blanket up off his ankles and cocooned them in, wrapping both palms around Tim’s waist and snuggled his cheek immediately.

“You always get to play on the computer while I get shot at, only fair its switched this time,” Jason sighed, and Tim could feel no strain or worry, a boneless relaxation crept up Jason’s entire body as if being next to Tim was honestly the safest place in the whole world. Maybe it was for him, as Tim could allow himself to feel happy and think the same of his partner.

“You looked so hot punching those guys out in the elevator, very Captain America of you,” Jason nuzzled his cheek, and dragged his lips towards the soft skin behind his ear. Each word sent vibrations across his skin, making it prick in a heated breath.

“Your kinks never cease to amaze me,” Tim scuffed, imagining Jason watching him through a camera feed while miles away was oddly erotic.

“You didn’t even mess up your suit, not one drop of blood or slit in the fabric. A few wrinkles I’m sure the cleaners can smooth out in one decent cleaning. They didn’t even see it coming– poor bastards,” Jason purred the last bit and rolled enough to pin Tim into the mattress with his hips, the forced pressure to his left thigh made him grit his teeth in pleasure. The line of Jason’s cock through his sweats left nothing to the imagination, he was getting off just thinking about the scene. Perverted dork.

“You have it bad for me,” Tim laughed when Jason kissed his Adam’s apple and rolled his palms down his sides to savor the muscles of Tim’s abdominal. Jason didn’t get a response with anything witty as he sometimes did, but instead nudged his chin to the side so he could suck a bruise into a revealing spot on his throat. Tim let him, curling his fingers into Jason’s ass to force it down into a roll against his thigh again. It had his back arching, a long moan slipped out.

“Marry me again,” Jason hummed to his throat, lifting back to kiss his jaw, and then his lips. It made Tim’s head light, butterflies fluttered in his belly, and he was sure his expression was of mixed awe and shock.

“Again? Don’t you think Bruce spent enough at the last one?” Tim’s snark wavered, his voice broke towards the end as emotion over the question seeped in.

Jason smiled, it was kind, rare, and affectionate– and it made Tim half gasp at the beauty such a rugged man could be. He rolled them over. Pinning Jason’s back to the bed while he straddled his waist to clear his head from such a distraction.

“You got to ask me last time,” Jason admitted, Tim situated him self down to Jason’s shins, pulling his pants down with him. There was this small part of him that wanted to shut Jason up– they were already married dammit. As happy as they could be, and now he seeks to make this cute and fluffy when it wasn’t necessary.

“You’re mad?” Tim was asked, and he paused, he had his face inches from Jason's exposed lower half, his tongue even out to lap at the head. He narrowed a particular intense gaze towards his husband and sat up, pulling his shirt off in one fluid movement.

“I’m far from it, you are making me feel all mushy– I’m too hyped up still from the fight and that card game you initiated might I add. Do you wish for sweet nothings whispered into your ear? Is that what you want?” Tim rose a challenging brow, and Jason nodded enthusiastically, masked perfectly so Tim honestly couldn’t tell if he was being a butt head or wanted it. He grumbled.

“Fine, only for you,”

"Yay!" Jason tackled him.

Being together often left the two of them struggling back and forth with aspirations and dreams, it was what made everything in their life focused on the present. No longer did they have to worry about a future not written, or the past that made them who they were today. The seconds would matter to them-- time, in general, hadn't been the villain so much as a needed antagonist. It was too easy to forget to live, but when they had the chance to fall in love five minutes at a time when they believed in nothing beyond their existence only to have it challenged cosmically. When Tim watched the love of his life crawl from a grave alive and knew he saw a God or a magical apparition in the moment of impending death--

The tick tock of the clock wasn't meant to be anything to fear. Those passing seconds were worth their attention, worth living.

 

 

_"Love me for another five minutes?"_   
_"Absolutely--"_

 

**FIN**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so kindly for reading this. I enjoyed working through a plot that allowed them to be together but not entirely the primary focus. A mission fic, in general, was so challenging to write, you should see all my notes! I am sure I messed up in some places no matter how hard I tried. It was a great exercise regardless! And I hope you had fun reading it. 
> 
> Ever since I moved into my 30's irl, I have been dying to dive into what Jason and Tim's mindset would be while being older. There aren't many fics out there that allow us to travel that far ahead of time without knowing what happened during their earlier period together; especially, if it's separate from canon as mine clearly is. I think I wrote enough to have established their relationship well and gave decent information in this AU world to be able to enjoy a sequel without the confusion of canon. 
> 
> If I find the muse for it, (and I close up other stories) I might honestly consider writing a sequel to this involving the Time Vest that was in the Nightwing Rebirth 25 issue and all the weapons stuff Dick is dealing with in Rebirth. When I read it, I squealed with excitement. I just love time manipulation in general; it's fun! I also really adore Artemis and Bizzaro and would consider having them all team up in some way. If you have any suggestions or comments, I'd love to hear your feedback!
> 
> Thank you again for reading, Cheers! Cassie


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